If I Lose Myself
by EMPG22HoPe
Summary: This is losing themselves, but finding each other in the heart of a war. The story follows the lives of Astoria Greengrass and Draco Malfoy during the return of the Dark Lord, how they came to be and how they conquered their own demons. Before, during and after the Second Wizarding War. (A Drastoria Fanfic)
1. Chapter 1: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **PART ONE**

 **BEFORE THE WAR**

* * *

 **Chapter One: Astoria**

 **August 1996**

* * *

"Mum, dad, look! Look! Look!"

Mornings in Greengrass Manor were nothing short of quiet, not with her sister Daphne running about at the crack of dawn like some Cornish pixie. Sometimes it took most of Astoria's self-control not to cast a little _muffliato_ at her sister to keep her mouth shut. And she did mean most of her self-control, though admittedly, she wasn't allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts. She wasn't planning to take the risk anyway; not with the news the _Daily Prophet's_ showing.

Astoria unwillingly threw her blankets off of her with a disgruntled groan. She rose from bed and began trotting downstairs towards the dining hall where she supposed her sister was at, along with her parents. The manor around her felt cold despite the month's summer heat. The soft green colors of the walls looked a bit chipped and the paintings of their ancestors were looking very dead, lifeless, even; which was a surprise considering how most wizarding portraits moved at the sight of a live human being walking about. If there was anything to the whole manor, she hasn't felt at home in it for quite some time now.

As soon as she reached the bottom stairs, she saw Daphne's head pop out from one of the opened double doors down the hallway. Her sister's blonde locks bounced in the small light of the hall as she approached her with a sly grin on her face.

"Daph, do tell what you're on about?" Astoria asked her sister as she yawned, though jolted slightly awake by the feel of Daphne's arm looping around hers.

"It's our Hogwarts letters! They've come!" Daphne said in a sing-song voice as she dragged the younger Greengrass towards the dining hall. "I never thought they'd come, to be honest; especially with the whole _You-Know-Who_ being back and all."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't arrive." Astoria shook her head before seeing her parents already seated on the long table.

"They _shouldn't_ have arrived at all!" Her mother, only a few years touching towards the age of 40, exclaimed as she slammed her teacup against the redwood table. Cassandra shot her husband a disdainful look before going on, "Cepheus, this is absolutely ridiculous! It's not safe for our daughters to come back to that wretched school. I'll be damned if anything happens to them."

Her father, Cepheus, looked up from reading the latest paper of the _Daily Prophet_ to acknowledge his wife. "My dear, I'm not surprised you share certain sentiments."

" _Sentiments_?!" Cassandra screeched with cheeks flushed, rising from her seat. She took from the table what appear to be two white envelopes with the Hogwarts emblem glistening against the early morning sun. "Do you remember the last time the Dark Lord came to power? We damn near lost everything! Do you honestly expect me to sit here and have my daughters sent into a castle already marked as a slaughterhouse for his Death Eaters?!"

"I am aware of the first war, having gone through a traumatic phase myself at the time." Cepheus said calmly as Astoria and her sister took their respective seats on the table. "I'm merely expressing the fact that while not everything has gone to hell yet, it would be unwise not to have our daughters educated given the opportunity. We are not some pretentious pure-blood family."

"We are part of the _Sacred Twenty-Eight_ and that's as pure-blooded as we are!" Cassandra shrieked, matching the sound of a screeching Banshee as she slammed the envelopes onto the table. "What if he comes for them at the dead of night?! Forces them to join his bloody Death Eaters? You **know** he wants nothing but the finest pure-bloods in his army, and I refuse to have my daughters be one of them!"

"Oh, calm your knickers mum. It's not like Tori and I are going to be _Death Eaters_." Daphne waved off their mother shortly after commanding their house-elf, Briseis, to fetch their breakfast. "Besides, have you seen their robes? It's _ghastly_. I can't imagine myself looking gorgeous in those. And that tattoo of theirs is a laughing matter in modern fashion."

"Mum, it's going to be fine." Astoria said softly before gracing her mother a smile. Unlike her sister, she didn't quite enjoy joking around during serious conversations, especially one that involves the life and death of their family. "I got an owl from Luna saying that Professor Dumbledore will be putting loads of protection spells on the castle. It's not likely a Death Eater would be daft enough to walk through the front gates without being burned to smithereens."

"You're still friends with _Loony Lovegood_? How can you stand her? She's mental!" Daphne asked her, completely aghast. Astoria ignored her.

"We'll owl you twice a day; if it helps you sleep at night." Astoria bargained before her mother could say anything. "And if the dark mark shows up at the castle, we'll be the first to be on the train back to London."

Cepheus smirked at his wife, causing Cassandra to glare at him before sighing with sheer relents and finally settling down on her seat.

"I suppose that settles it, then." Cepheus said rather cheerfully, closing his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ before taking a sip of his own tea. "We'll be off to Diagon Alley this afternoon to buy your books."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, daddy!" Daphne squealed in delight as she threw herself at their father, giving him a bone-crushing hug. "I promise I'll do better this year. I passed six of my O.W.L.S. Surely I'm well off to getting into some pretty good N.E.W.T. subjects!"

"You'll do well to work hard on those subjects, then, Daphne." Cassandra told her eldest daughter harshly before gracing Astoria with a lovely smile. "And you too, dear."

"Mum, I don't take O.W.L.S till' next year." Astoria said just as Briseis the house-elf arrived with their breakfast, the smell of freshly cooked sausages and bacons wafting through the air.

"I know, but if you want to be Prefect, I expect _Outstandings_ from all of your subjects. Not a single _Acceptable_ , you hear?" Cassandra said, raising her brows as she plucked a sausage with her silver fork.

"Yes, mother." Astoria sighed tiredly as she too began to devour her meal.

That was the certain problem, apart from the Dark Lord's return and all, in the Greengrass manor. Her parents had expected Daphne to be above and beyond everyone else in Slytherin, wanting her to become a Prefect when she had reached her fifth year last year; as did her parents when they were in Hogwarts. But a few failed classes during Daphne's fourth year lead the Prefect role to be given to Pansy Parkinson, a snarky, pug-faced friend of her sister's that Astoria didn't particularly fancy befriending. Since then, the disappointment of their parents, though rarely shown, reflected onto her – and now the expectations they've wished for Daphne were all on her shoulders. It wasn't exactly fair and the nicest thing to weigh at the time being.

But despite such, she loves her parents and she didn't exactly want to end up disappointing them any more than she already has. What, with her tolerance for muggles and muggle-borns, it isn't quite prim and proper for a pure-blood and it wasn't what they expected out of her.

It's certainly a bloody lot to take in for a fifteen year-old girl.

* * *

Astoria spent most of her afternoon in Diagon Alley alone. After breakfast, she sent an owl to Luna asking if she wanted to join them that afternoon. She had hoped to get a reply within the hour, the usual interval in which Luna would reply. But upon the strike of two, she had already side-apparated with her parents.

She suspected Daphne and her mother had something to do with not getting an owl back from her dear friend. They never did like how Astoria associated with the Ravenclaw girl. While not a lot of people befriended Luna Lovegood (or as most like to call her _Loony Lovegood_ ), she didn't mind being friends with the quintessential witch. She's a sore better lot to befriend than any of the other Slytherin girls who were downright nasty and just plain unfriendly, save for the exception of the Carrow twin sisters, who tolerated and were friendly with Astoria considering how they were roommates.

Before Astoria could head off alone into _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour_ for a bit of cookies and cream, she felt someone tug at her arms. Once she turned to find that it was only Daphne, she pursed her lips and dragged her sister right into the parlour.

"What are you doing?! You've got to come with me, Tori, oh _please_." Daphne begged as she tugged at her sister's arm relentlessly. "I'm in need of new robes, and I trust no one else in the sense of my robe fashion except you!"

"Why can't you just bring Pansy? Or Millicent? I bet they'd be thrilled to help you out with that." Astoria asked inquiringly as she tried to weave her arm off of her sister's.

"Well, they're not here now, are they?" Daphne rolled her eyes at her playfully. "You've got to! I'll buy you some ice cream _after_. I promise. I swear it on Gran Cassiopeia's grave!"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, _fine_. But you owe me **two** cones of cookies and cream, you hear?" Astoria gave in as she was quickly dragged out of the parlour and straight down the cobblestone steps towards _Twilfitt and Tatting's_.

"Bit excessive, don't you think?" Astoria asked, blowing a strand of her black hair out of the way as she and Daphne entered the up market clothing shop. "You're willing to waste half of your savings for a new set of robes?"

"Come now, Tori. You act as if we're not rich enough to buy the entire shop! Or have you completely forgotten that we're well off?" Daphne gasped at her before finally pulling away to head for the front desk where a heavily make-upped witch was conversing with a blonde woman wearing a dark silk coat. The latter seemed awfully familiar, though Astoria could hardly put her finger to it.

Her eyes wandered around the shop and she couldn't help but admire the well-sewn dresses and robes hanging around in silver hangers. Though she wasn't like Daphne who spends half her savings on clothes and extra pairs of shoes, she did fancy a lovely emerald dress, pairing it with white pumps occasionally. Just as she was about to head for the second floor where some of the boas and floppy hats were, she heard her sister's high-pitched squeal.

"Mrs. Tatting!" Daphne greeted the witch before turning to the blonde one. "Oh, and Mrs. Malfoy! A pleasure to see you here!"

Astoria nearly jumped at the second name that her sister mentioned. She turned her attention towards the front desk, now realizing the familiarity of the blonde woman. A cold shiver ran down her spine, mostly out of nervousness than fear. Everyone knew of the Malfoys. Certainly not a single wizard lived without having to encounter that family name somewhere. They were practically the wealthiest British wizarding family known, a family of the _Sacred Twenty-Eight_ and a well-respected one at that. Well, that is, until Lucius Malfoy himself was caught with a bunch of other Death Eaters in the _Department of Mysteries_ in the Ministry of Magic. The family had fallen from grace after the occurrence; however, Astoria still found it odd that her parents are still in allegiance with the family. She had assumed her mother would be ashamed to have been associated with the Malfoys after that fiasco, but perhaps there's more loyalty there than what meets the eye.

"Daphne Greengrass, you look lovely as ever." Narcissa smiled at her before quirking a brow. "Here to buy new robes, I presume?"

"Oh yes. Can't be looking like a clown on my sixth year!" Daphne giggled before eyeing Astoria. "I've come with my sister, you see."

Astoria graced a small smile as she headed towards the front desk to greet the blonde woman.

"Astoria Greengrass, my, have you grown taller?" Narcissa laughed merrily. "Well, I certainly hope you're on the same venture as your sister. How's Cepheus and Cassandra?"

"They're quite well. My mother was quite hesitant in sending us off to Hogwarts this year, though." Astoria added conversationally. "Can you blame her?"

"Certainly not," Narcissa pursed her lips this time. "Although I do hope she'll understand the... ah, _protection_ to be brought by Dumbledore."

"Mother, I think I've done myself the right size now." An all-too familiar voice came from behind the counter. One of the curtains, which Astoria assumed would have been the dressing rooms, opened to reveal Draco Malfoy.

Her breath hitched as she tried to look away. Gods, gods, _babbling gods_ ; why him? Daphne began to nudge her side roughly, causing her to send her sister a glare. The blonde Greengrass gave her a knowing, teasing look before walking over to where Draco was.

"Draco! I didn't know you'd be here!" Daphne said in her all too high-pitched voice before turning her head to wink at her sister. Astoria could feel her cheeks heating up by the second. Her blasted sister sent her here for a reason; the sly git.

Childish and awfully foolish as it may be, Astoria used to have a stupid school-girl crush on Draco Malfoy. Half the school's witches were falling mad for him until he showed his truer colors in his fifth year from when he had a go at the Weasleys' mother after a Quidditch match against the Gryffindors. That was the moment she realized she ought to stop making excuses for his actions. He was simply and utterly the most dreadful pure-blood she's ever met.

Still, she hasn't really got an ultimatum against him. If anything, her memory served her a time from when he wasn't such an insufferable prat. But that had been years ago. Though a small part of her did feel as though he could still change; that he wasn't completely irredeemable.

"Hey, Daph." Draco acknowledged her with a nod. "Good of you to drop by here. We just got out of _Madam Malkin's,_ see? I couldn't fancy myself in a clothes shop with _Saint Potter_ there and his filthy mudblood and blood traitor friends, Granger and _Weasley_."

Astoria cringed after Draco spoke, and tried to hold her tongue from snapping back at him for his crassness. He had quite the utmost appeal for pure-blood supremacy which was, unfortunately, quite all-the-rage with pure-blood families. It made her sick to the bone. She didn't see the point of hating and treating muggle-borns like scum. They're just as human as they pure-bloods are, really.

"Oh, how awful," Daphne sympathized before grinning at him. "Draco, I believe you've already met my sister, Astoria."

 _Bloody freaking hell_. Astoria made a mental note to hex Daphne once they come back to Hogwarts. She then smiled coarsely at Draco. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, she never really had a more open interaction with him until now. It felt odd, though, as she met his gaze.

"You alright there, little Greengrass?" Draco asked, gracing her one of his smirks as he tugged on the left sleeve of his robe irritably. Astoria could have sworn a small yelp came from her mouth when she said _yes_.

Oh, how she despised being called little Greengrass. It was a long story to tell, but to make short of it; she shadowed so much of Daphne at a young age that by the time she grew out of it; everybody had already started calling her that. And anyone can bloody guess well enough on who started the _little Greengrass_ mill. Though Draco only meant well and a tease to her for that when they were kids, it was an awful thing to be called; especially coming from him.

Draco stripped off his robes and handed them over to Mrs. Tattings. Even as the robes were already off him, Astoria noticed him still rubbing at his left arm, which was covered with his long-sleeved black coat.

"Well, we must be off now. Lots to buy still." Narcissa announced, snapping Astoria out of her reverie. The blonde witch went forth and gave her and Daphne hugs before looping her arm around her son's.

"See you at school, Daphne." Draco said as he was leaving before turning his gaze towards her. He seemed distracted as he did so. "You too, Astoria."

And he was off.

As soon as the door was shut, Astoria heard the shrill squeal of her sister. Daphne tugged at her arm as she jumped up and down, a red dress looped around her sister's right arm bouncing along with her. She tried to pull away, but Daphne was far too insistent as she had hoped.

"He said your name! _He said your name!_ " Daphne screamed at the top of her lungs.

"I'm well aware!" Astoria told her a little more crossly than necessary as she successfully relented herself from her sister. "Honestly, you act as if the man's a god."

"Merlin knows you used to think he was." Daphne winked at her before handing Mrs. Tattings the red dress. "I quite fancy you two together, if only you weren't such a social pariah sometimes."

"We barely speak." Astoria said accusingly. "Besides, he's with _Pansy_. I wouldn't dream of getting near him with a ten-foot pole if that nasty friend of yours keeps dangling him around like a toy. And haven't I told you that I'm past my first year crush over him?"

"I doubt you no longer think he's still a nice catch. But, well, you're _right_." Daphne's enthusiasm dropped ten-fold after hearing Pansy's name. "Wouldn't want her finding out now, do we? Goodness. Well, it's not like Pansy's genuine with him. She's just using him to gain popularity after the whole debacle with her dad going into a muggle prison."

"Still. It's best you keep your mouth shut about my former crush on the git. The last thing I need is Pansy Parkinson breathing down my neck for sparing Draco a glance." She hummed absent-mindedly as she heard her sister pay for the red dress. "Do you think there's something wrong with him?"

"What do you mean?" Her sister asked as she took the paper bag from Mrs. Tattings.

"Well, he seemed a bit off earlier, didn't he?" She said in a small voice. "Scratching that left arm of his and whatnot."

"Probably just a tick," Daphne waved it off before smirking at her. "Honestly, you notice _everything_ about him now, do you?"

Astoria shrugged. Her mind was completely elsewhere now. "I just have a feeling, you know?"

"Right. Your gut feeling." The blonde nodded as they began to leave the shop. "I'm sure he's fine. I'll let him know you care!"

"What?" She snapped out of her reverie this time.

"Look! He's over there!" Daphne exclaimed as she pointed somewhere behind her back. "Draco! _Draco_!"

"Honestly, you're the worst." Astoria screeched as she pulled her sister towards the other end of the street, away from where Draco Malfoy, she assumed, was. But even in her irritation, she couldn't help but laugh at her sister's ridiculous antics.

"You know you love me," Her sister cackled evilly, causing Astoria to shake her head, awfully amused. "I'm sure he's fine, Tori. He's a Malfoy, after all. He and his family may have fallen from grace, what, with his dad being chucked into Azkaban and all. But he's _fine._ He can very much handle himself."

Although something told Astoria that there was definitely something wrong.

After all, her gut was never quite wrong.


	2. Chapter 2: Draco

**If I Lose Myself**  
 **by _EMPG22HoPe_**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Draco**

 **July 1996**

 _The weather was dreary despite July's supposed summer heat. Draco already knew why that was so as he walked the halls in Malfoy Manor leading up to the drawing room. As soon as he entered the space, he tried to remain placid as his eyes flitted across the people standing there._

 _Narcissa, his mother, stood to the side dressed in black robes; looking disheveled as though she had just been crying. Next to her stood his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, looking very exuberant as she stared at Draco hungrily. The next person he turned to did not ease his quelling discomfort._

 _Standing in the middle of the drawing room—just before the great fireplace adorned with the portrait of his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy—was the Dark Lord himself. He looked as menacing as ever, despite the pleasant look the pale man was sporting towards Draco. His red, snake-silted eyes bore into Draco's cold, gray ones expectantly._

 _"My lord," Draco's voice wavered as he bowed stiffly. "I've been told you've called. What do I owe the pleasure?"_

 _"I am sure," Voldemort's raspy voice started as he began to pace away from the fireplace towards one of the ornamental vases placed upon the room. "You are aware of why I am here, young Draco. You are, I believe, aware, of your father's little… mishap at the Department of Mysteries."_

 _"Yes, my lord," He said in a small voice, remembering briefly how his father sat behind bars during his visit in Azkaban. His eyes wavered towards his mother briefly but looked away just as the Dark Lord spoke again._

 _"He has failed to acquire what I need. The prophecy, if you will." Voldemort said with a nod, glaring at Bellatrix and Narcissa for a moment before returning his gaze towards Draco. "I fear your father will no longer be of quite proper use. A simpleton pawn. A **waste**."_

 _Draco cringed, but he did not dare to meet the dark wizard's eye._

 _It might have been a trick of the light or a mere scrape of the wooden table, but he was certain that he heard his mother whimper from where she stood. However, Draco did not brave himself to check if it was really her._

 _"However, I am a man of second chances; despite what other people might think." Voldemort went on, finally stopping in front of him. His pale, cold fingers touched his jaw and forced him to look up. The slits of the Dark Lord's blood-red eyes narrowed. "I am prepared to offer you a deal you cannot refuse. A deal that will not only save your father from my wrath, but also your mother."_

 _He swallowed what felt like rough sand as he nodded. "Anything, my lord."_

 _Voldemort's smile looked more like a sneer as he pulled his fingers away and continued walking. "I am in need of your great service, Draco. But before I can do that, I must mark you. For you see, I will need your word before I can offer you such kindness."_

 _"Mark me, my lord?" Draco asked, completely taken aback. A part of him felt as though something had awakened, perhaps a certain pride slowly mending itself once more. That pride, to which had been tarnished the moment his father was sent to Azkaban, built itself up now._

 _This is what his father would need. Finally, after **years** of trying to impress the man that never seemed to care for Draco's accomplishments, he's able to prove once and for all that he wasn't a complete waste of time after all. He never thought, however, that proving that would mean joining a legion of Death Eaters. _

_And that much of his doubt was confirmed by the noticeable whimper from his mother. Draco tested himself by staring at Narcissa, only to find Bellatrix gripping her sister's arm harshly as if to shut off the noise. He frowned. He wished his aunt didn't have to, but she makes a fair enough point. This was no time to show weakness._

 _"Your mother has disagreed at the first thought, of course," Voldemort finally spoke after what felt like a pregnant silence save for Narcissa's attempt to castrate her worries. "But I have told her, as I shall tell you, that this would mean the **greatest** honor, Draco. Think of what your father would say when he returns from Azkaban. Would he not be proud?"_

 _Draco could already imagine it: the proud look on his father's face when he shows him the freshly inked Death Eater mark on his forearm. That look was ever so rare, and perhaps the only time he's ever seen it was when he successfully mastered the art of riding his first junior broom several years before he entered Hogwarts. This was going to be better than some measly childhood pride._

 _Fully determined, and thus feeling that particular honor, Draco nodded eagerly. "Yes, my lord."_

 _A harsh chuckle came from the Dark Lord as he again forced Draco to look at him. His lips curled menacingly as he raised his wand. "Your left arm then, Draco Lucius Malfoy."_

 _Trying to keep himself from glancing at his worry-faced mother, he held up his left arm and rolled up the sleeves with his right hand. His pale skin was dotted with goose bumps and before he can pull up his control to rid of it, the Dark Lord raised the tip of his wand and stabbed it against the height of his forearm._

 _A searing pain unlike any other coursed through his arm and slithered its way throughout his entire body. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as he attempted to sound brave, yet whimpers and groans of sheer pain came as the familiar tattoo of the dark mark began to draw its way downwards._

 _Suddenly, flashes of terrible memories came to his mind. The time he fell off his broom during his first Quidditch match, the time he saw his parents fighting over his father's allegiance to the Dark Lord, constant nightmares that he hoped wouldn't happen of Voldemort murdering his father right before his eyes. Tears began to brim his eyes as the memories slammed into him like a hurricane, and only when he closed his eyes – away from seeing the dark mark be completed on his arm, did the memories began to ebb._

 _The pain subsided, but there was an aftermath of prickling discomfort as the Dark Lord's wand relented. Draco opened his eyes now. The dark mark, quite similar to the one his father has, was now horribly sewn against his skin; patches of red singeing the edges of the ink, similar to that of getting a fresh tattoo._

 _"Now," Voldemort said nonchalantly, just a slight chuckle of sheer, joyous laughter came from Bellatrix. "Are you prepared to carry out what I am about to ask you to do, young Draco? I must recapitulate that the fate of your family's lives **rests** upon your delivery of the task of which I ask you to accomplish. Fail to do so, and you just might find your parents dead on the wooden floors of your very manor; your lifeless body alongside them."_

 _This time, Bellatrix stopped laughing. Whether it was sheer concern for what the Dark Lord had just said or the glare that he had just sent upon the witch, Draco didn't care. He sincerely doubted it was the former._

 _"Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord." He agreed unfailingly while he still tried to recover from the infernal flashes of dreadful memories and nightmares. "I am prepared to be at your bidding."_

 _The Dark Lord smiled darkly. "Very well."_

* * *

 **Early October 1996**

"Draco, mate, get up!"

Draco bolted upright from where he sat. He took in his surroundings groggily before rubbing the sleep off his eyes with the back of his palms. The sound of the Black Lake's waters crashing against the castle walls resounded above the crackle of the warm, green fire provided by the elegant Slytherin common room.

The warmth of the fire, gratefully, made the painful thudding of his heart slow. In some ways, he always seemed to forget that Voldemort was far away from where he was right now. In Hogwarts, the Dark Lord wouldn't be thick enough to touch him. In Hogwarts, he wouldn't have the nerve to control his actions. In Hogwarts, he was, quite painstakingly so, safe.

"That's the fifth time you fell asleep, you know?" Blaise said; his Italian accent laced with the English graced the room as he came into view before him. His arms were crossed against his chest, but his face laced with friendly worry. "The bloody hell's been going on with you?"

"It's nothing." Draco drawled on lazily as he ran his fingers through his hair, looking down on the table of which he most likely slept on so many times already. Strewn about on the table, it would seem, was his Transfiguration and Potions homework. He didn't quite see the point of doing any of them anymore, not with what he was about to do, anyway. "What time is it?"

"It's half past ten. You missed your Prefect duties and Snape's not happy." Blaise grunted as he took one of the emerald seats surrounding the round table before them. "I had to wake you up anyway. Professor Slughorn's looking for you."

"Oh yeah?" Draco asked disinterested as he closed the parchments of essays he was half-assing. He supposed it wouldn't be worth passing them tomorrow. "What did the old man want? Finally came to his senses that I'm worth being in his little _Slug Club_?"

Blaise laughed as he shook his head. "Not bloody likely with the way you're doing in your classes with him. Nah, mate, he said you need to go to his office now. Something about getting you a tutor or something."

This finally caught Draco's full attention. "A _tutor_?"

His dark friend's body racked with laughter as he attempted to wipe fake tears off his eyes. "Yeah, a _tutor_. I never thought I'd see the damn day, really. Honestly, I thought McGonagall would give you the boot on that instead of chucking you into detention all the bloody time."

Draco frowned at this. It seemed of his professors had been eager to send him to detention, though not without reason. He was skipping classes deliberately to go about the plan that the Dark Lord has asked him to do. To his surprise, it was taking a little longer than he had expected.

"But by Salazar's balls," Blaise went on. "Slughorn may be mental, but he's sure got a sense of humor and some guts."

"Who does he bloody think he is?!" Draco growled as he stood rather violently from his seat. "If you think I'm going to his office for a blasted tutor—"

"I thought you might say that." Blaise nodded as he finally calmed down. "That's why he said if you didn't go to his office tonight, he'll _exceptionally_ fail you and you won't be able to see the light of N.E.W.T next year."

He sneered at his friend as he pushed his parchments and books into his leather bag. Not like he was ever coming back here next year. As much as he was attempting to underestimate the academic system of his school due to the task he was assigned at hand, he didn't want to have Slughorn sending his mother letters about his failing grades. If anything, he did greatly in most of his subjects thanks to her. But the severity of what he was tasked to do weighed so much in him, he tended to forget what he did for his mother.

" _Fine_." Draco hissed impatiently as he shouldered his bag and started for the door.

"Mate, you sure you're alright?" Blaise asked for what seemed to be the bloody umpteenth time that month.

Draco looked back and nodded wordlessly at him before heading out, hoping for yet again the umpteenth time that Blaise doesn't ask him the same question again.

With a rapt knock on the wooden door of the sixth floor, it opened to reveal Professor Slughorn in his usual attire of a brown waist coat that threatened to burst due to his pudginess and brown slacks. He was a balding man of old age, though he graced a pleasantness that Draco didn't exactly enjoy. Why were people so damn cheerful these days?

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Slughorn jeered with a wide grin as he stepped aside to give him room. "Do come in! I was a bit worried Blaise wasn't able to relay my message. Oh, but Blaise, quite the trustworthy man. I suppose it wouldn't be a tad bit biased for me to say _five points to Slytherin_ for his exceptional delivery."

Draco attempted a slight smile but failed to do so, entering the wide office instead. The room was fairly large, big enough to host a small party of a sort. It had a large fireplace to the side – though not nearly as big as the one in Malfoy manor – and two white velvet sofas that could seat about six people or so. It was an impressive room, and he attempted to distract himself by his surroundings as Slughorn went on.

"Now, I do believe Blaise has briefed you on why I've called you here." Professor Slughorn said as he conjured an elegant tea set out of nowhere, setting it down the coffee table before the sofas. Draco voluntarily sat on one of the cushions as the professor began to pour them tea. "I take great pride in my teachings. In fact, such great pride, that I find it difficult to look past a failing student. Of course, you're not _ultimately_ failing, but you're nearly there."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at this. The only people concerned about his grades were his mother, Snape and for some odd reason, Professor McGonagall. Can't a man go a month without being pestered for top notch grades this year? It's not like there's ever going to _be_ a Hogwarts next year with the plan already set in motion.

"I'm offering to have you tutored by one of my _Slug Club_ members. There's only so little of them well available and have the willingness to do any of this, really." Professor Slughorn handed him a cup of tea and Draco absent-mindedly took three sugars and a splash of milk onto his cup. "I only mean for you to get at least decent grades, Mr. Malfoy. I find it rather painful to know that I have failing students at my class. It makes me look like the old potions master isn't doing his job the way he used to, and I certainly beg to differ."

"Let me guess," Draco finally spoke up as he glared at the old man. "You're sending _Saint Potter_ to tutor me, are you? If you think I'm going to tolerate even a second being tutored by _scar head_ just because he's your bloody top student, then you've certainly got another thing com—"

"Oh, heavens no!" The professor chortled delightedly before taking a sip of his tea. "Certainly not. I believe the boy already has a lot on his hands…"

"Of course he does." He muttered disdainfully under his breath as he finally downed some of his tea, nearly searing his tongue, though he paid his pain no mind.

"…no, I have decided to take in a much more willing candidate to help you out on your studies for my class. Ms. Greengrass, if you please?"

This caught his attention a lot more than he had hoped it wouldn't. He nearly spit out his tea when he finally saw her. From the open space balcony behind them appeared Astoria Greengrass, still in her uniform, holding her own cup of tea. Her black as night hair was tied up in a neat, elegant bun and her face, though eloquently tired, looked pleasant. As she approached, her green eyes grazed over him in surprise, her mouth forming a small 'o' as the pleasantness drifted into nervous wreck. She looked at him hesitantly now before biting her bottom lip and finally meeting the professor's eye. Perhaps she wasn't briefed that she'd be teaching him. That made two of them.

"This is Astoria Greengrass." Professor Slughorn introduced proudly once Astoria finally came to view before him. "Best student in her year! Fourth year, mind you. Quite the little potions master herself next to Potter and Granger. She knows the higher years' syllabus more than her own, actually."

"I'm sorry," Draco cleared his throat as he slammed his nearly empty cup on the coffee table before rising from where he sat. "You expect me to be tutored by a _fourth year_? _Little Greengrass_ , who's about two years younger than me? Are you mad?"

At this, he saw Astoria's eyes widen; though he couldn't tell if they were out of anger or fear. He didn't give a damn about it.

"If by mad, you mean quite the mad genius, then _yes,_ Mr. Malfoy; consider me "mad"." Professor Slughorn air quoted before going on. "I'll have you know that not a lot of people in my club were exceptionally grateful for the opportunity of tutoring you. Well, with the happenings of your father and all—"

"Don't you dare talk about my father like that!" Draco cut him off crassly.

"I mean no disrespect, mind you. Of course not!" Professor Slughorn tried to recover. "I'm merely saying that not a lot of people wish to be in your company at the current moment—"

"Including me," Astoria finally spoke, her voice matching the harshness he had produced earlier. He stared at her; now the one with the look of his surprise on his face. She was glaring at him, in which he returned the favor. "But I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I intend to pursue them with extra academic work. Even if it does include tutoring someone as awfully reluctant as you."

Draco wanted to say something. Literally _anything_. He's used to insulting banter, rather having done a fair few with Potter himself and admittedly, winning 90% of the time. And fairly, not a lot of girls engaged in arguments with him in fear of being cursed by his wealthy family and all. But the fact that he could hardly say a word, throw a single insult at this little _girl_ that just regarded him so rudely meant a prideful deal to him.

"Now, now, Ms. Greengrass; we mustn't be rude. Though I daresay you're an excellent match to tutor Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure he'll learn a number from you." Professor Slughorn tatted at her before finishing his tea. "Conduct your tutoring in whatever way you wish. I expect by the end of November, he'd at least pass half of the assignments and potions to be brewed by then. If not, well, it _must_ be continued!"

Instead of regarding Astoria, in which he decided he'd deal with later, he turned to Slughorn. "And what if I don't _want_ to do this _blasted_ tutoring? Hm? I'm only behind Granger in my year. I'm nearly as smart as her and I can easily accommodate being able to catch up on the subject—"

"I understand your defense against the matter." The professor nodded patiently. "That is why I have owled your mother out of respect this morning, and she, too, has agreed to garner you with a tutor. And, she's favorable of having Ms. Greengrass here be the one to tutor you. I believe you and the Greengrasses are, as they say in the pure-blood community, _well-connected._ "

He was finding it hard to believe that his mother would agree to such methods. It was shameful, embarrassing and all the more an awful means of delaying his task. Every Death Eater and ally were now well aware of the task the Dark Lord has set upon him, though the specifications lie between him and Voldemort. It was maddening not being able to tell his mother all about it. At this point, he owes her this one wish of her agreeing to have him tutored; even if it is against his will.

"Very well, _professor_." Draco said the last word with enough venom to poison an entire class before shoving the strap of his leather bag further up his shoulder. He then turned to Astoria who was now the least bit calmer, but her front of an annoying glare remained. "Tomorrow. 1 o'clock. Near the Black Lake and don't be late, _Greengrass_."

Astoria seemed to fume and he couldn't help but grace her one of his signature smirks before walking past her and Slughorn towards the door, slamming it behind him for good measure.

As he made his way back down towards the Slytherin dungeon, he felt a slight hinge of remorse for Astoria. She didn't ask for this, but then again, she sort of did. He's heard of her little school-girl crush on him from when he helped her in her first year, though he's not surprised considering how most of the girls in her year, the year above her and in his year fawned over him relentlessly. At this point, he doubted she still had it in her to fancy him; not after the way he treated her tonight. But he pushed such thoughts aside – for there was no room for remorse this year.

Just like there was no room for remorse for what he was about to do in a few months' time.


	3. Chapter 3: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Astoria**

 **October 1996**

"Honestly, the nerve of that blithering git! Can you believe him?!" Astoria fumed as she shoved a helpful of shepherd's pie in her mouth, grinding her food angrily before chucking her fork violently against a fat sausage. " _Tomorrow, 1 o'clock, near the Blake Lake_. Who does he bloody think he is?!"

Daphne laughed with her mouth full, causing some of the people in their table to glare at her disgustingly. The blonde shook her head and she swallowed her fill of food before answering, "He's a _Malfoy_ , that's what he is. What did you expect? He'd play friendly with you just because you've had a few good encounters with him?"

"No, but I'd expect he'd be a bit more _civil_ considering his family's status with the ministry _._ " Astoria spat as she took a swig of pumpkin juice, nearly choking on it had she not the decency of a proper gag reflex.

Astoria simply couldn't believe what had happened last night. She had thought her fourth year at Hogwarts would be an endearing start, especially with her acing her Potions class with ease in which she took quite the liberty of studying in advance before the year began. It all began perfectly; she got into the _Slug Club_ and started her classes off with advanced readings like she had planned. Mum seemed to be happy of how her year was starting off, having promised to send her parents letters twice in a day to assure them of their still being alive.

But, really, the cherry on top was having the honor of being a tutor for Professor Horace Slughorn's troubled students in Potions class. Even though she was only in her fourth year, she quite enjoyed reading the syllabus of the higher year level's – which were actually far more interesting than her year. And when the professor found this sentiment about her, he then offered her extra points in class should she be able to tutor a particular failing student of his.

She had no idea that failing student was Draco Malfoy.

Yes, given, she used to be quite taken by him. But after he spoke of her like she was some _little girl_ , a simpleton so less of his kind; she didn't question her attraction back then decreasing; even more now by ten-fold.

Astoria always heard of Draco's pettiness and his pretentious jabs at other people below him, but never has she been more irritated by the way he had done so with her. He may call her _little Greengrass_ for all she cared, but for him to underestimate her abilities and her smarts; which she assumed are far greater than his at this point, truly dented her in more ways than one.

She wasn't just pissed. She was downright furious, and she bloody hated the git people worshipped called Draco Malfoy. Or _used to_ worship anyway.

"Oh, cheer up, Tori." Daphne said, rolling her eyes before gracing her with a knowing smirk. "At least you get to spend time with him. Didn't you tell me at the Hogwarts Express that he looks quite troubled to the point that you wouldn't mind a word or two with him?"

"Not anymore." Astoria hissed at her sister before slamming her empty glass of pumpkin juice on the table. "No way in Merlin's pants am I going to enjoy a single _second_ with that pompous arse. He's an arrogant, selfish, uncivil, pretentious little git! I don't understand what the lot of you see in him. All I see is a spoiled, privileged man who has no care for the people around him whatsoever."

"Oi, don't get your knickers in a twist, Tori." Blaise laughed maniacally as he sat beside Daphne, who was sat just across Astoria on the table.

"Too late, Blaise." Daphne shook her head amusedly. "Apparently, Slughorn has set her up last night to be Draco's tutor for the next two months. Can you imagine her luck?"

" _No_ ," Blaise faked his disbelief before cackling alongside Daphne. "Draco never told me anything about Astoria, but this is certainly news to come by. The great Draco Malfoy's going to be tutored by a _fourth year_."

"I am more than _just_ a fourth year, you blundering little—" Astoria shrieked as she threw a piece of sausage at Blaise who dodged it easily. She was very rarely angry at people, even at Draco Malfoy; who seemed to exude the kind of person Astoria quite loathed. But this time felt particularly different, as if she'd been put under the Imperious curse to further her loathing towards people. "You and your prejudice. It's downright insulting. I can pass half the classes you're already taking right now, Zabini!"

"Ay, calm down, little Greengrass." Blaise chuckled as he laced his arm around Daphne's shoulder. Daphne looked up at him, surprised whilst her cheeks flushed uncontrollably; but Blaise didn't seem to have noticed. "It's not that bad, really. Didn't you used to fancy him? What's changed?"

"That's none of your business!" Astoria said rather furiously, a blush already creeping along her cheeks. "Honestly, commanding me like I'm one of his cronies. I'll show him! I'll bloody show him; I swear on Merlin's beard, I will roast his arse!"

"Best you get a bit of warning out to Draco then, Blaise." Daphne said rather teasingly, though she still seemed frazzled by having Blaise's arm splayed on her shoulders. "You haven't seen my little sister angry. She'll hex you in to next Tuesday and might just slip a wee bit of shrinking solution into your morning pumpkin juice. She's a bit mental when she's mad."

"I'm not!" Astoria exclaimed as she rose angrily from where she sat, her cheeks probably the color of tomatoes now. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be heading to—"

"The library," Blaise and Daphne said at the same time.

Astoria blinked at them before shouldering her knapsack. "Yes, and I'll be looking through some background on the essay that Professor Slughorn's asking Malfoy to write for extra credit. And will you two stop sniggering at me? You both look stupid."

Daphne tried failingly to hide her grin and Blaise was barely even trying. Honestly, how ridiculous can those two get? Before the couple could say anything more about one particular Malfoy, she left the Great Hall with a new purpose to her step.

She wasn't about to be intimidated by a sixth year.

Despite the house that she was sorted in, everyone knew that Astoria was oddly one of the rare soft-hearted Slytherins. Unlike most of the people in her house, she enjoyed being friends with muggle-borns and feels little to no superiority against muggles. As a pure-blood, it was expected of her to uphold pure-blood supremacy as most of the _Sacred Twenty-Eight_ should. Her parents have awfully taught her the ways, but they've always felt so wrong to her. Her odd liking for muggles and muggle-borns were quite apparent that people from her house usually stirred clear from her. She'd often hear them talking behind her back, though she quietly let the insults pass her by; _blood traitor, little Greengrass, weak little girl._

They may call her names for all she cares, but to be underestimated so harshly – well, that's where she bloody draws the line.

And no way was she going to let Draco Malfoy ruin what could possibly be a promising school year for her.

* * *

The whole morning was a whirl of classes that she took a great number of particular notes on, but not a lot of listening to the professors. She'd been so invested of concocting a lesson plan that would hurt as bad as the Draught of the Living Dead for her tutor with Draco later on that by lunch, she began sporting a seriously painful headache.

Headaches weren't new to her, nor were the fevers and colds that followed right after. She had always been quite sickly, even as a child. However, her being sickly was quite questionable. Her body had a habit of homing random illnesses out of nowhere at least twice a month, thrice on winter months – and yet, not even her own parents know why certain things were at bay. Astoria tried to pay it no mind, but it really was quite a curious thing.

When lunch ended, her headache was then complimented by a slight fever. Her whole body felt absolutely weak, and despite the chill of October signaling the coming of winter; she felt hot. It was only a matter of time before the cold catches on, and then finally a high fever that would put her in bed rest for Merlin knows how long. But Astoria refuse to be sick and act like it especially with what she's about to go through in a few minutes' time.

Ignoring the burning headache and the easiness of how she grew tired of walking at least three steps, the witch trudged on towards the front doors; her heavy bag of books and parchment in tow. It looked to be a lovely afternoon despite her hardly feeling the chill of what she loved to feel as winter. Students mulled about generously on the castle grounds, a few heading off to the Black Lake much like her.

By the time she got to the base of the Black Lake, she was breathing so heavily that one would think she had run a marathon. The lake glistened under the soft warmth of the sun, a few merpeople and Grindylows bobbing up the water every few minutes or so. Before she could even have a pleasant seat under the birch tree to slow down her heart rate, she heard an all-too-familiar voice that she hadn't the pleasure of hearing these days.

"You're late, little Greengrass." Draco said irritably as he finally came into view. He had gotten rid of his robes, now only in his long sleeves and grey sweater, his green Slytherin tie slightly askew. His hair was currently in shambles, like he had just climbed out of a ditch. Though he looked pristine as ever, he looked a bit pale.

Astoria checked her Niffler watch, a rather odd-looking gift she got from Luna. "It's 1 o'clock. Personally, I find that I've gotten here _on time_ , _Malfoy._ "

"If you were raised with proper pure-blood manners, you'd know that five minutes before the supposed time _is_ the exact time. I still consider you late." He went on lazily as he sat on one of the stumps of the birch tree, putting down his leather bag after doing so. His brows quirked curiously, though his lips curved into a sneer. "Well, what are you waiting for? Haven't you got a bunch of stupid potions to teach me?"

She couldn't help but send him a glare, one in which he returned with ease. The witch breathed out mostly her frustration and her tiredness before walking up to the tree and sitting a stump right across him.

As much as she had the predisposition of shoving her own row of banter right at him, her headache was increasingly headier and her fever was close to actual boiling point. But she tried to push her condition aside. She wasn't about to show any sign of weakness in front of Draco. She couldn't possibly give him the satisfaction.

"Professor Slughorn told me that he gave you an essay to write about the components of _Amortentia_ and _Felix Felicis_." Astoria started as she began to pull out books and parchments from her knapsack. "Have you already started on it?"

"Just the introduction," Draco answered plainly as he took out two rolls of parchments from his bag and shoving it onto her lap. He looked away right after, sighing pleasantly as he leaned back against the tree and put his arms behind his head leisurely. "I haven't got a lot of time on my hands, so if you could just bloody write down the rest, that'd be _fantastic._ "

She raised an irritated brow at him before taking the rolls of parchment.

" _Write down the rest_? Malfoy, I am _not_ about to write your bloody essay for you. I'm not some house-elf you can simply pay or hardly pay at all to do your dirty work!" She shoved the rolls right back to him with much force that Draco nearly fell off his stump. "You say you're as smart as Granger, then _prove_ it. I have a few notes I got from the library on extra components and history on the potions and I suggest you do well to listen to me and do the writing **yourself**."

Her head ached further after she finished speaking. Maybe she shouldn't be talking much, and quite frankly, she hadn't got the energy. But with Draco's obscene way of addressing the session, she couldn't help but have her word on the matter. After all, herown grade rests upon whether or not the he could pass his own exams.

Draco looked at her with the same look of surprise he had last night, but he quickly recovered by crossing his brows in irritation before standing up; his rolls of parchment sliding off him and onto the wet dirt. "You've got some nerve talking to me like that, _little_ _Greengrass_. You filthy little **blood traitor**. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I don't care if you're the Minister of Magic himself, _Malfoy_." She hissed at him as she too stood as she crossed the line between them and jabbed a finger against his chest. Her head had a sudden rush of being tipped to the side, but she went on. "I have had just about enough of the way you're treating me. Believe me, I don't enjoy having the pleasure to tutor you, but if you want to live to see the light of N.E.W.T next year, I suggest you stop being an arrogant prick and cooperate. Admit it, _you need me_."

"I don't need _you_." Draco sneered at her as he drew dangerously close towards her. It baffled her how tall he was compared to her slightly miniscule height, though his height did nothing to intimidate her. In fact, she felt the need to go on her tip toes. "I can bloody well take care of my own grades, and if that bald-headed Slughorn hadn't owled my mother, I wouldn't be standing here right now arguing with a useless _fourth year_."

"Then I'm sure your mother would be _oh so delighted_ to hear that her son refused tutoring and with little to no surprise fail his exams. Your family name is unbecoming of you." Astoria spat at him this time before her head pierced, causing her to draw back a few steps away from him and holding onto one of the low branches of the trees.

This seemed to have triggered Draco in some way because he glared at her threateningly before huffing in disgust. He headed back to sit on his stump, picking up his rolls of parchments in the process.

"Why am I even wasting my time arguing with you? You're not worth galleons at all, hardly a knut, really." Draco said harshly as he unrolled one of his parchments and looked up at her, his glare hardly dissipating. "Well? Have you got those notes or what? Or are we just going to sit here and waste precious time? I haven't got all day, you know."

Astoria breathed out heavily before pursing her lips and sitting across him again. Her headache subsided in the least bit, but no doubt her fever had increased ten-fold. She rubbed her temples tiredly as she unrolled her notes on Amortentia.

"Please, just _shut up_ for two seconds." She told him off softly, hardly having any more strength to pluck up an argument with him. Her tingling, hot skin was starting to irritate her and by Merlin's pants if Draco says another word that sets her off, she might just faint out of sheer tiredness right then and there. "Have you got anything on _Amortentia_?"

Draco scoffed disdainfully as he checked his parchment. "All I've got is that it's a stinking love potion. Hardly an introduction, actually."

"Hmm," She nodded listlessly as she read through the contents of her notes. As her eyes skimmed the words, she fished out a chocoball from her pocket. "Well, you can add in there the effects of Amortentia. It's said to be the most powerful love potion ever created. It creates strong infatuation and obsession, but not necessarily _actual_ love. It's said to smell differently to each person, according to what attracts them."

She looked up to find him writing down what she was saying, the scratch of his quill on parchment the only sound between them next to the sloshing of the Black Lake and the noises of the Grindylows within it. As she waited for him to finish, she unwrapped her sweet and popped it into her mouth—the sweet filling of cream and strawberry mixed with the chocolate giving her some relief from her stress earlier on.

"And what attracts you, little Greengrass?" Draco asked as he continued writing, scratching his left forearm menacingly while hardly looking up at her.

"The smell of the ocean," Astoria answered plainly, sniffing as she swallowed the lot of her chocoball. The cold she was bound to sport very soon was coming around. "Fresh parchment, vanilla and oddly enough, green apples. At least, that's what I think attracts me. I've never really gotten around to smelling Amortentia. Not unless you count the ones in Fred and George's joke shop."

"The _Weasleys_ , huh?" He said, finally looking up at her with a smirk. "Well, I'm not surprised. One blood traitor to another, right?"

She sent him a harsh look, unable to say anything due to how spent she felt. He seemed to have taken this as a sign, and held up his hands in surrender; his awful smirk never leaving his face as he went on.

"No, I meant to ask what kind of men attracts you?"

"Certainly not sixth year, arrogant gits like you," Astoria answered nonchalantly before looking up at him. "And what about you? What attracts the famous Draco Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head before chuckling lowly. "Certainly not fourth year, nosy little girls like you."

She couldn't help but laugh at him, shaking her head unwillingly as she looked back down at her parchment. He may be a pain in the ass, but she had to admit he certainly had a tinge of nonsensical humor to him.

"How is it you bloody know more about this than I do?" He asked her after a small silence. "I know this is basic potions and all, but these are N.E.W.T level potions. You've hardly taken your O.W.L.S."

"I just like to read a lot." She said in reply as she rubbed her nose, feeling a sneeze coming along. Oh, good gods, not now. In an attempt to suppress and forget the cold, she took out another chocoball and heaved large bites from it. "Every time my sister and I come back from Diagon Alley buying our books, I often pick mine up out of boredom and read. And when I'm through with that, I go over Daphne's books. Advanced potions, charms and transfigurations always quite fascinated me."

"You sure sound a lot like a Ravenclaw." He said with a sly grin as he scratched at his left forearm lightly. "You sure you're sorted into the right house?"

"Funny story how the Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me into Ravenclaw. I didn't really mind being sorted there. More bookshelves in their common room than the library, said Luna." She went on with a smile before pursing her lips. "But generations of my family have been in Slytherin, you see; quite like yours. Since the hat takes your choice into account, I told it that I _needed_ and _wanted_ to be in Slytherin, even though my heart's not really in it. Because I didn't want to disappoint my mum and dad; any more than I probably already have, really."

Draco nodded, his eyes slightly fixated on her now as he rolled up his parchment and picking up the other one. "It's not that bad being in Slytherin. It's the noblest house in all of Hogwarts. Both sides of my family were in Slytherin, except for that little Gryffindor snag; Sirius Black, I think. You should be proud to be in it. Not all people who get sorted into our house are that evil."

Astoria nodded plainly as she, too, rolled up her parchment then unrolled another one from her bag. There was a small silence between them at first before Draco spoke again.

"You're not usually like this, are you?" Draco asked, abandoning his work now. "All riled up and up my arse."

Astoria's eyes widened before she shook her head, feeling embarrassed. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I truly am. You just caught me at a bad time. I'm not usually up and about arguing with people, unless you count Blaise."

Draco's face contorted into something akin to both surprise and confusion; though he remained silent, as if considering something.

Her statement was true, of course. Astoria was almost never up anyone's arse. If anything, she always flitted about with a bright smile on her face. It just so happened that she triggered a cold that day, making her even more irritable than usual.

In an attempt to reconcile with him, Astoria pulled out yet another chocoball from her robes and offered it to him.

"My dad always says that sweets always help you make friends," she started in a little sing-song voice before sending him a shy smile. "Since we got off on the wrong foot earlier, I figured we should start being civil with each other if we're to survive this tutoring."

Draco quirked a brow at her as if to find the notion odd, and yet decided to say anything against it. He then shook his head in amusement, after which he plucked the chocoball from her hand and pocketed it fruitlessly.

Astoria then gave in to the sudden itch of her nose, emitting a small _achoo!_

"You better get something for that cold of yours." Draco said plainly, finally snapping out his surprise-confusion reverie as Astoria wiped her nose with a bit of tissue from her robes.

"It's nothing." She sniffed weakly as she looked over her notes on _Felix Felicis_. "I'm quite sickly, so the cold's not new."

Draco said nothing for a while. She shifted uncomfortably when she caught him staring at her. There was none of the disdain or reproach he used to have when he looked at her. He looked to be considering something, which was frustratingly hard to read. Why were men such hard people to read? They were worse to read than a couple of Ancient Runes books.

"Perhaps we should cut off today's lesson." He finally said as he rolled up his parchment and stashed it away in his bag along with his quill. "You've been pale the minute you got here, and I'm actually quite surprised you had the audacity to participate in such well banter with me in your condition."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Astoria told him softly, but did nothing to stop him from tidying his things. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I'd much prefer a less-ill tutor; one that doesn't sneeze on my essay every once in a while." Draco said as a matter of fact before standing up. "Just hand me the notes you had for _Felix Felicis_ so I'll revise the words on my own later tonight. Like I said earlier, I do have somewhere else to be anyway. Best you get on to the hospital wing, little Greengrass."

"Would you _please_ stop calling me that? I know it's a thing you've run up with, but it's just so annoying sometimes." She sighed tiredly as she too shoved her things in her bag before standing up, her legs wobbling weakly. One of her hands accidentally held onto Draco's arms and she immediately pulled away the minute she realized he was holding onto her as well, probably helping her to keep upright.

Draco cleared his throat as he let go of her. He looked away, almost embarrassed.

"Right," Astoria finally said after the pregnant silence between them. She pulled out her _Felix Felicis_ notes and handed it to him listlessly. "Make sure to have those essays of yours finished before Friday. Just do me a favor and please just finish them. My grade's just as much on the line as yours is."

He looked at her this time. His grey eyes searched her green ones silently before nodding listlessly. "Alright. I suppose I'll see you same time tomorrow. Do you need me to walk you back to the castle?"

Her cheeks flushed before she shook her head. "Of course not. I can handle myself, Draco. Surely I'm not some weak little princess to you?"

"I don't know," Draco looked her from head to toe, causing little goose bumps to rise in her arms. "You seem like the type."

"Shove off, will you?" Astoria pushed past him a little aggressively and she shook her head in amusement when she heard him laugh and follow her up the steep steps up to the castle. The warm sun shone a little brighter as they left the Black Lake, and her fever, for some odd reason, docked down a little less now that she felt more at ease around Draco.


	4. Chapter 4: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Draco**

 **October 1996**

" _Concentrate,_ Draco." Bellatrix hissed at him as she released her tight hold on his shirt. "I can see through the very crevice of your mind. The Dark Lord could see farther than that, and by Merlin, we certainly don't want that for you now, do we?"

"Bella, that's _enough._ " Narcissa regarded coldly as she roughly shoved her sister aside, causing Bellatrix to nearly fall from where she stood. The dark-haired witch glared at her before huffing in disdain and walking over towards the unlit fireplace.

Draco attempted to catch his breath, but his head felt like it was being split in half by an axe and his entire body felt as though it was being weighed down by anvils. Any attempt to calm himself discerned to be quite futile. His eyes flitted across the room they've rented last minute in Hogsmeade. It was shabby and hardly worth the galleons they paid for, but he knew that he, his aunt and his mother weren't here on vacation. In fact, he often wondered since then if he'll ever be in one ever again. He wondered if his life will ever go back to normal.

"He's not trying hard enough, Cissy!" His aunt exclaimed as she pointed her wand towards the fireplace and with a few flicks, the dusty woods lit – causing the room to warm up in the slightest. "You say you want to protect your boy from the Dark Lord's mind when he's barely trying to block out a simple mind invasion. Occlumency isn't exactly the most difficult thing, really. It's like flicking your first wand; hardly any effort put into it. When I was his age, I could block out Dumbledore himself! He can't even block a wee bit of a mouse!"

"I said that's **enough** , Bella!" His mother's voice overpowered his aunt's this time. Bellatrix turned to glare at her sister, but his mother went on. "He's just a boy. He'll learn, like both of us have. The more you pressure him, the harder it is for him to listen to you! He's not one of your Death Eater students."

"Is he not?" Bellatrix shrieked as she moved dangerously close towards them. She took a hold of Draco's left arm and shoved the black sleeve of his coat up, revealing the dark mark that the Dark Lord had marked upon him before his father's court trial. He couldn't help but wince at the sight of it. The skull looked menacing, and the snake perpetuating out of it danced dangerously. For some reason, it's gotten darker in color by the months. "Is this not a Death Eater to you, _Cissy_?"

"He is your nephew, _Bellatrix_! I'd expect a tad bit of _leniency_ towards your family." Narcissa moved forward and shoved the sleeve of his coat down. He knew his mother hated seeing that mark, having to have already seen the same thing on her husband before.

"Family?" His aunt scoffed indignantly as her eyes widened in disgust, staring right at him before sending a dangerous look towards his mother. She let go of his arm harshly before pointing her slightly bended wand towards the blonde woman. "You forget that I murdered our own cousin, Narcissa."

Draco looked away, finding it remarkably difficult to even continue listening to this conversation. While he never did quite fancy the blood traitor side of his mother's family (such as Sirius Black and Andromeda Tonks), family was still _family_. It was an ethics, an initial lesson he's learned as a child that one should never give up on family; no matter what grand idiocy they may come by. He's never truly known Sirius Black, having to be so far distant in the Black family tree. All he knew was that he was connected to a murderer, and he didn't pride himself in knowing that. But when he had found out that his aunt had killed her own cousin – he felt almost sick to the bone. He couldn't imagine killing his own cousin, blood traitor or not.

Narcissa's eyes bulged fearfully. But her fear dissipated when she shoved Bellatrix's wand out of the way then walked over towards the fire place. There was a small silence in the room before his mother finally spoke. "Surely you wouldn't murder my son."

"No, I wouldn't," Bellatrix answered almost instantly. He accidentally met his aunt's gaze and could have sworn he saw a flicker of concern in them. But her pupils dilated and her cold, harsh front resurfaced. "I'm doing this against the Dark Lord's wishes, Cissy. You _know_ he wants nothing more than to check on Draco's progress on his mission. Be _grateful_ he hasn't had the idea of doing so. And if I am to be found—"

"Then I suppose you'll have to keep your mouth shut while you're around him, then." His mother's clipped voice overlapped. She turned to look at him and his aunt, her eyes now glistening with tears. "Bella, _please_. I've lost Lucius. I cannot lose Draco as well. He's punishing us. _Me_. My son. I can't bear it. It would kill me."

"Then your ridiculous excuse for a husband should have thought better than to fail his own mission—"

"Don't you dare talk about my husband like that!" Narcissa finally drew out her wand, but to Draco's surprise, his aunt had lowered her own. "You could have helped him!"

"It was not my mission now, was it, _Narcissa_?!" Bellatrix fired back. "He should have bloody thought differently when he decided years ago to be a Death Eater—"

"That's **enough**!" To his surprise, Draco found his own voice as he rose from where he sat. His headache was now subsiding, though it had its troubles with the argument circulating within the room. And within that particular argument, he found a new purpose. He didn't exactly know where it came from, but it definitely had something to do with his father. He wanted him out of Azkaban perhaps a whole lot more than his mother did; and the only way to do that was to bloody master Occlumency and succeed in his own mission.

The two witches stared at him oddly, almost looking as if they've forgotten he was even in the room.

"I'm ready now." His tongue felt like lead as he said this, trailing his eyes towards Bellatrix.

"Draco, darling…" Narcissa's voice trailed off softly, wiping the harsh tears that were sliding down her cheeks.

Draco tried to ignore the vulnerability in his mother's voice and the ache to pull her in and hold her close as he did the night his father was sent to Azkaban. His voice sounded raspier now as he continued, "I think I can do it now, Aunt Bella."

Bellatrix's current sneer turned into a malicious smirk as she walked over to him and pushed him down onto the chair again. He held the arms of the chair tightly as soon as his aunt raised her bendy wand towards his forehead. A part of him was shaking horridly, fearful of how far his aunt would go down his mind. But another part of him was writhing in pride and excitement at his newly found purpose. He braced himself for the impact as his aunt yelled, " _Legilimens!_ "

A sharp, most unbearable pain hit his head; spreading throughout his entire body as flashes of his memories unfolded.

His father teaching him how to ride a broom, his first vacation at the Canary's with his parents when he was fourteen, getting his first wand at Ollivander's, receiving constant candies and sweets from his mother every time he went back to Hogwarts, days of insulting Potter and succeeding gratefully, nearly catching the Snitch during Quidditch, his first kiss with Pansy Parkinson. Then suddenly, his memories shifted; it turned to the time he lost his first Quidditch match and being told off by Marcus Flint, being slapped by Granger so hard his head spun, being turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, seeing his father get dragged away from him by Aurors and dementors…

"I can practically see you as a fetus, Draco!" He overheard his aunt's voice through the harsh memories that were coming at him left and right. "Try harder!"

His hold on the chair's arms tightened as he closed his eyes, blocking out the memories – allowing himself to feel empty and unbidden, like a new person who hadn't had a single memory till' now. Slowly, the darkest memories began to subside, his lighter, more carefree moments overshadowing it. Though he tried to get rid of those, too, it seemed to awfully stay.

 _No, I don't need those._ He said to himself crassly as he concentrated on emptying his mind into a blank slate.

The image of Astoria Greengrass, her nose as red as a reindeer's, laughing at his joke, offering her sweets and singing about them, flashed before him. Her soft green eyes staring right back at him was the last thing he saw before everything went completely dark. Oddly enough, the memory seemed to have left a trail scent of vanilla and roses.

Draco's body felt more relaxed now, his hold on the chair loosening as his mind floated into an abyss of darkness. He felt like he was in limbo, just swaying into the rhythm of nothingness. Though it wasn't a pleasant thing, emptiness; it did help get rid of the memories that his aunt was trying to penetrate. He was like this for several minutes, the voice of his aunt shrieking _Legilimens_ over and over seemed like hills and mountains away from where he was now. Only at the sound of his mother's voice calling his name did he snap out of his reverie.

He opened his eyes to find that his mother was smiling now, the first real smile he's seen her have since… well, it's been a very long time now, actually. His aunt was sitting on one of the couches in the corner, shrieking with absolute delight and laughing mostly to herself as she sent sparks of green and silver onto the air.

"My, I certainly underestimated his having any guts at all. He's definitely far from his father in the guts department." Bellatrix laughed hysterically as she lolled her head to the side, now staring directly at him. "Well done, Draco. Though with a little more practice…"

"He's done splendidly enough." Narcissa said softly as she kneeled before him and took his hands in hers. "How do you feel, Draco?"

"I feel fine." He said in a small voice as he tried to massage the side of his head with the heel of his palm, getting rid of any excess pain from the practice. "I think I deserve a bit of butter beer after all that bloody madness."

"Surely, he does!" His aunt cackled maniacally as she rose from the couch and conjured three bottles of butter beer out of thin air. "Rosmerta won't mind if I steal a few bit from her cupboard now, would she?"

His mother took two of the floating butter beers and handed him one. He took a large swig of the sweet concoction, his whole body warming up impressively at the taste of cream and butterscotch on his tongue. He always did love butter beer, it was the best thing next to apples.

"I did, however, see a pretty little girl while penetrating your mind, Draco." Bellatrix drawled on teasingly, a menacing grin gracing her lips. "Who is she?"

"Oh, that's just Pansy," He shrugged it off as he took another drink from his bottle, remembering the memory of his first kiss with the girl. It wasn't a particularly important memory. In fact, the kiss was harbored out of curiosity. Everyone's been doing it, anyway – snogging, that is. He felt curious as to what it would feel like and Pansy just happened to be crazy head over heels for him at that time to do it with him.

"Oh, no, I know _Parkinson_. Shame what happened to her father, really." His aunt said before chugging down her own butter beer. "No, I meant the girl _after_ that; the one with the pretty green eyes and an obviously contagious cold."

Draco nearly choked on his drink then pulled the lip of his bottle to the side. He tried to look anywhere but his aunt, but she seemed to follow the movement of his eyes and moved where they moved annoyingly. Bellatrix grinned at him darkly before shaking his head and looking down. "That's nobody. Just the little Greengrass girl. She's tutoring me in Potions."

"She wouldn't be a nobody if she shows up in your practice." Narcissa said a little worriedly, although he saw the tip of her lip rise just a bit, almost teasingly.

"Well, whoever she is, you better keep her out of the frame, then." Bellatrix said loudly as she finished her butter beer. "Love is a fickle and if the Dark Lord sees you involved or attached to anyone romantically, you best be sure he'll use them as leverage should you fail your mission to kill that oaf, Dumbledore. And you certainly don't want that innocent little girl in the hands of the Dark Lord now, do you, Draco?"

Horrible images of the Dark Lord taking Astoria hostage, marking her with the dark mark, hurting her with the _Cruciatus_ curse flashed before his eyes. He didn't have any sort of attachment to her; hell, he hardly knew the first thing about her. But it would certainly kill him if the Dark Lord did anything to hurt Astoria. She's innocent, and he certainly doesn't want any more innocent lives getting tangled up in his own darkness.

He agreed to what his aunt said. He needed to get rid of Astoria Greengrass. Now.

* * *

Draco had just about spent his entire weekend looking for her. Well, that, and trying to repair the vanishing cabinet. But mostly, looking for the one person he'd least expect to find himself looking for. It was absolutely contradicting to what he'd originally planned on just bloody getting rid of the little witch.

His first week of tutoring with Astoria was nothing short of ordinary; in fact, the whole thing felt so normal that it became a habit of his to come down the Black Lake at exactly 1 o'clock since then. He had gotten to like the normality of just studying, of not having to worry about any task of murdering someone. It was a world completely far from the dark until he had to get up another day and realize he still had a vanishing cabinet to repair.

Now, he had to get rid of that one little normal thing out of his life, all because it showed up during his Occlumency lessons. It's not like he asked himself to show Astoria, but in the midst of all those horrifying memories – her face just came to him, and it made him feel ridiculously warm all over.

 _No_. He bit his tongue to rid his thoughts of her. He hardly knew the girl. As if Astoria little _Greengrass_ was going to be of any significance to him in the future. _No_ , he thought to himself again as he walked into the Great Hall – but even as his head screamed _no_ so many times that Monday morning, his eyes couldn't help but wander and try to find the young witch in a sea of less important ones.

At first, he thought he caught the sight of a familiar pair of green eyes in the Slytherin table – that is, until he realized they didn't belong to a particular dark-haired witch. The witch was blonde and about a few years older than the initial person he was looking for. But it was certainly better than nothing.

Daphne Greengrass laughed at something Blaise had said to her but stopped when she saw him walk over to where she sat. She graced a friendly smirk before saying, "Well, good morning, Draco. Slept well?"

"Like a rock," Draco replied plainly as he sat across Daphne. "Have you seen your sister?"

"Tori?" The blonde asked nonchalantly as she began examining her nails. "No, I haven't. Not since Friday, really. Why?"

"You don't know where your own sister is?" He asked rather dubiously.

"Oi, she ain't her sister's keeper, mate," Blaise went right in between bites of sausages and pancakes. "Why are you looking for little Greengrass anyway?"

"It's none of your concern, Zabini." Draco sighed tiredly as he took a bit of toast off the table and slathered it with raspberry jam. "I just have a few… er, lessons, to run by her."

"Ay, bloody hell," Blaise chortled all of a sudden. "So it's true, isn't it? This is a regular thing you've got going on now, huh?"

"Shove off, Blaise," He told off his friend heatedly as he took a bite of his toast. "This isn't a "regular" thing. In fact, I've come here to look for her so that we can stop the whole tutoring. I just think it's ridiculous."

"Well, if it's the tutoring thing you're so anxious about, there's Professor Slughorn," Daphne nodded towards the front of the Great Hall where said professor and a fair few of their teachers were having breakfast. Then she turned her gaze back at him. "Although from what I'm hearing from my sister, I'd say you're doing _just fine_ with the tutoring. She says it's helping you a little bit. A bloody miracle, really. Especially after I heard that you were at each other's throat the first day you both started with it."

"It's a defense mechanism Draco has, luv," Blaise said after taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "He'll piss off anyone and if that person's still standing at the end of the day, you best believe he'll stop at nothing to get rid of that little smile on their faces."

"Thanks, _Blaise_." Draco rolled his eyes at his friend, knowing full well that the whole thing was a lie. Well, a bit of a white lie. He did like pissing people off, and he certainly wanted to get a row out of Astoria that time. It just so happened that he saw how pale she was, no doubt sick of fey fever or something. And he wasn't exactly that much of a monster to push a sick person's buttons. He turned to Daphne this time. "You sure you haven't seen her at all?"

Daphne smirked at him before taking a sip of tea. "Calm down, will you, Malfoy? She's just been in the dormitories all weekend, nursing that bloody fever of hers. She was sick the day she started to tutor you, remember?"

"Yeah, but she looked perfectly fine the day after that," He said a little defensively. "In fact, she's been fine all week since that day. You're not _really_ telling me she's sick again?"

"She's really sickly, Draco," The blonde Greengrass shook her head in dismay. "She's been like this since she was eleven, you see? Mum and dad were worried when they found out. Astoria was hardly ever sick as a little girl and it's suspicious how she started getting very much so when she arrived at Hogwarts. The longest she's been sick was an entire month, and that was in her second year. Nearly missed finals because of it."

"What kind of sickly are we talking about here?" He asked suddenly, surprised by this new information he was getting. "Are we talking about _St. Mungo's_ sick or bedridden sick?"

"She's usually just bedridden sick. She gets sick at least twice a month, thrice on winter months. It's baffling, really." Daphne said with a small voice as she picked at her food absent-mindedly. "But she'll be fine. In fact, I think she'll be up and about in the afternoon. She's a fighter that one. Can't imagine how her seemingly obscene temper could fit in such a small, fragile body like that."

Draco couldn't help but chuckle at the last sentence, remembering how surprised he was when Astoria tried to fight back. He simply couldn't frazzle her as easily as he would other people. Usually they'd run the other way, but she just plowed right through – unafraid; and he admired that about her.

The rest of the morning was a blur; he was hardly aware of the time that by the third bell he realized it was already lunch time. He ate his meal in haste, though he hovered just a bit to catch and see if Astoria had come in for lunch – but he never saw her small frame and licorice black hair in the crowd of students. His disappointment was baffling, but he tried to push it out of the way. He can't be giving a damn about some mangy little _fourth year_. Besides, wasn't he supposed to be getting rid of her so that she won't appear during his Occlumency lessons? For the first time in his life, he felt genuinely confused.

Since it was Monday, he didn't have any tutoring lessons with little Greengrass. Moreover because of the fact that most of his afternoon had been taken up by Potions class and he went into a wholly new abyss of it. He was starting to do just a tad bit better in class ever since he started getting tutored at it. He had always excelled outstandingly in his classes, though they weren't always out of interest. This year, however, he found himself falling short of a few due to the simple reminder of the mission the Dark Lord had set upon him. It made him sick, but he attempted to hide his discomfort. He didn't need Blaise, or even Pansy, bombarding him with questions of whether he was feeling well.

The whole afternoon was spent with Slughorn assisting them in creating a _Wiggenwald Potion_ , which was, as he remembered, a potion that could heal someone from magically-induced sleep. He merely got the basic concept of it, but struggled a bit with the positioning of the salamander blood. By the fourth time that he had to add it, he dropped just a hint few more and instead of his potion turning pink, it turned an icky color of green.

"Ah, interesting color, Mr. Malfoy!" He jumped in surprise when Professor Slughorn spoke behind him. The balding man seemed to be checking his progress rather much closely than he could possibly hope not. "I see you've added one too many Salamander blood. A common mistake, my boy. Not to worry."

"Hold on," Draco grunted distractedly as he skimmed to the back of his book where he had kept the notes he had been writing during his tutoring with Astoria. There were about twenty notes, some written in his hurried handwriting and some in Astoria's elegant cursive. He rummaged through it efficiently until he found the one about the Wiggenwald. He quickly took his small bottle of Horklump juice and downed three drops into his potion. According to his notes, it would dilute the extra Salamander blood. And to his surprise, his potion turned the color pink as per the instructions.

"Ingenious!" Professor Slughorn said, his impressed tone catching the attention of a few students. "Very ingenious, indeed. Well, done, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to _Slytherin_ for that quick recovery on the Salamander blood!"

Some of the Gryffindor students, Potter being one of them, looked at him curiously. Draco couldn't help but smirk at this as his fellow Slytherin classmates cheered briefly.

"I trust your lessons with Ms. Greengrass are going well, then?" Professor Slughorn asked, his voice at a volume meant for just the two of them.

"They are, actually," He admitted as he pumped up the heat of his potion, causing the color to change into a dark shade of red. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Professor."

"Is that so?" The professor asked interestedly as he leaned a hand against the table. "Do go on."

"I'm confident enough I can handle some of the classes this month, and in the next, really." He started as he added five lionfish spines into his cauldron. "What I mean is, I don't think I need any more of Astoria's tutoring. It would save us both the trouble, really."

"Oh, nonsense, my boy," Professor Slughorn said almost immediately. "It's not a year-long thing, but it's only been a week. And as far as I'm concerned, you're doing quite well since the tutoring. You're recovering from mistakes just as quickly as Granger is, and I believe if you keep up with it, you just might receive an _Outstanding_ in my class. Besides, you haven't even practiced hands-on with Ms. Greengrass."

"I just feel that any more of the tutoring would be unnecessary." His voice was harder this time. He couldn't possibly tell the professor that the only reason he wanted to stop his tutoring with Astoria was because he needed to focus more on his Occlumency. Should he spend any more bloody time with her, he fears he might start dreaming about her – and he definitely didn't want any of that, not when the Dark Lord can penetrate his mind at any moment. Though he hasn't tried yet, Draco didn't doubt what the nose-less bastard might do. "She could be focusing more on her own potions classes, is all I'm saying."

"Ah, I knew there was a tinge of modesty in you, Mr. Malfoy," The professor nodded impressively. "But alas, I suggest you go on with the tutoring. It won't be long, really. If you pass your November exams, just well off before the holidays, we can stop it all. But until then, I expect a few more remarkable results."

Draco swore he was _this_ close to strangling the old man, but he kept his cool and nodded his answer instead. It was worth a shot, really. Normally, he'd stomp his foot around, muttering how his father will hear about this and be the pompous ass he was, and commanding people to meet his demands. But to his surprise, he mentally accepted his fate, knowing full well that his father no longer had any power as a school governor due to his being Azkaban. To his surprise, he didn't feel the need to be demanding his requests approved. Merlin, was he this of a bloody git when he was younger?

Perhaps he'll just have to ace his November exams. He's often more resourceful than this, but he didn't really feel like picking at the loopholes right now. _Ace the exams and you won't need to be tutored by little Greengrass_. For some reason, he felt a little bit of relief. Although for what reason, he couldn't tell.

But he suspected it had something to do with spending more time with Astoria, and a slightly warm, almost calming feeling settled within him.

 _Bloody hell, this was going to be the death of him. **Literally**._


	5. Chapter 5: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Astoria**

 **October 1996**

Astoria has been sick for nearly a week now. Though thankfully, she's been a lot better since then. She had hoped two weeks ago, particularly on the first day that she started tutoring Draco, would be the last time. But come Friday in that particular week, she was hit with the most unpleasant of colds to the point that Pepperup potions from Madam Pomfrey weren't enough. She refused to stay in the infirmary for the rest of the week, hating the smell of other sick people like her. It would have made her feel even worse than she already was. And when thankfully granted pardon to stay in her dormitories all week, that's when she started sneaking off into the library.

While her sister disapproved her getting out of bed while sick, she digressed that she couldn't bear to lie there and do nothing about her unnatural illness. She's read muggle books about people having terribly low immune systems, but none explained why her immune system was worst than anything ordinary. Her parents haven't got an idea as to why she's only shown symptoms of countless illness since she started attending Hogwarts. They'd have thought it had something to do with the school, but after coming back for the summer after her first year – she still spent days bedridden due to random colds and high fevers. They even had her checked in St. Mungo's, but not even the wizarding Healers knew why it was so.

And nothing frustrated her more than unanswered questions.

Of course, other than that, having to miss an entire week of classes was all the more frustrating. If she's lucky by tomorrow and could come back to classes, she'll be able to catch up on her subjects, though fruitlessly, including her tutoring with Draco. The very thought alone increased her stress that by the time she finished reading through a _Healer's Guide to Uncommon Illnesses,_ she shoved the book back onto its shelf and left the library.

Astoria had wanted to at least explain to Draco why she'd been gone for a week now. But for the first three days of being bedridden, Daphne had kept her under wraps – and that meant hexing her room should she attempt to leave and checking on her after each class. Her sister brought her meals up and practically locked her away from the world outside her dormitory. Really, as much as she loved and appreciated her sister's concern, it irritated her how she kept babying her. She's fifteen, for Merlin's sake.

Although apart from that, she suspected that Daphne didn't want her to keep hanging around with Luna Lovegood. That issue was never addressed face to face, and her sister seemed to tolerate it _just a bit_ , but Astoria knew Daphne didn't want her to be associated in any way with the Ravenclaw girl.

By the fourth day, she managed to unhex her room – after having read it in an advanced book somewhere while being quarantined in her room, thus sneaking off during Daphne's classes. At that time, she had completely forgotten about trying to find Draco, but also because she didn't want to have him telling her sister that she's sneaking off in the day. Astoria may be powerful when it comes to hexes, but her sister was ultimately better at it. She didn't need a new hex on her door every now and then.

Her thoughts as she weaved through the hallways were interrupted when she accidentally bumped into a tall figure. Astoria nearly fell off if it hadn't been for an invisible force that helped her back up. The witch looked up distractedly to find that she had actually run into the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He was clad in purple robes and a slightly pointy hat of the same color.

"Ah, Ms. Greengrass. My apologies for running into you," The professor said apologetically.

Astoria shook her head immediately. "Oh no, I should be the one apologizing, sir. I wasn't looking."

"Not to worry, dear," Dumbledore smiled at her gently before quirking a brow. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed, Astoria? I hear you've been sick all week."

"Oh, well," She blushed at this as she looked down at her emerald flats embarrassingly. "It's just that I couldn't stand being stuck in my room for days now. My sister hexed the room so that I couldn't leave. I did a counter-curse five days ago and, well, I promise that the only place I've ever been at is the library."

Dumbledore chuckled softly at this. "No need to worry. I'm not going to expel you for sneaking off into the library during your supposed bedridden times. Although, I do advice to take great caution. I've heard of how sickly you get, Ms. Greengrass."

Astoria looked up when she heard this. "You have?"

The professor nodded before beckoning her to join him. "Oh, certainly. Would you care to join me for a walk, Ms. Greengrass? I find that walking while sick circulates the blood and increases your endorphins by the slightest. A bit of fresh air certainly wouldn't kill anyone."

She definitely found this request odd since she's never spoken to the Headmaster in a full conversation until now, but she considered her options. Professor Dumbledore would probably be the only person who would _really_ know what's happening to her. Astoria mentally smacked herself for being so thick as she stepped in stride with the professor – why hadn't she thought of this before?

"I'm sure by now you're curious as to why you're so often sick?" Dumbledore asked as they bypassed a few first years fighting over a box of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. "Please take no offense when I say that I find your condition peculiar. It is quite strange, indeed. But I have had some theories when your parents owled me during your second year."

"They've spoken with you?" She asked in surprise. Her parents never said anything about talking to Albus Dumbledore himself about her condition.

"At least once a year since that one month illness of yours," Dumbledore nodded. "During my free time since then, I did a bit of digging on my end on top of all the other things."

Astoria blushed again. Now she felt even more embarrassed after hearing that the greatest wizard known to man was actually taking some of his time to find out about her illnesses. "Oh, professor. Well… it's not that important, really. I wouldn't, and I speak on behalf of my parents when I say I wouldn't want to keep you away from more important matters. I suppose I really am just a sickly witch. Surely I haven't been the only one."

"Exactly, Ms. Greengrass," Dumbledore smiled at her warmly, but there was a hint of sympathy to it. "You haven't been the only one."

This piqued her interest now, though she still felt embarrassed to be prioritized. Not a lot of people took what she's going through seriously, not even the Healers who passed it off that she was just really sickly. It felt oddly good, despite the circumstance of that person prioritizing her being Dumbledore himself.

"I don't trust the ability of your immune system, Ms. Greengrass." Dumbledore started as they went up a few flights of stairs to the second floor. "It's your family history is what concerns me. I have asked your parents this question every time we speak of this little conundrum: Have you got a Greengrass family tree, a chart of some sorts that I could perhaps look into?"

Astoria swallowed. She's never thought of _that_ before. "Come to think of it, I haven't the slightest clue if we even have one to begin with. Our manor had several areas and floors destroyed during the first war, including the library. My uncle Atlas was to blame, unfortunately. He failed to accomplish a mission the Dark Lord had entrusted upon him and in return, he tarnished the manor. All mum and dad ever told me was that the Greengrass line was from dad and Uncle Atlas, then our grandparents; Cassiopeia and Hyperion. But they've passed a long time ago and I think only Daphne met them at the time."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded briefly. "Well, I've already checked your mother's family tree – the Shafiq's – and found no trace of anything odd."

"So, professor… does this mean that my illness has something to do with the Greengrass line?" Her eyes widened in delight at the sudden discovery.

"I have my suspicions, yes. But until then, I cannot prove otherwise unless I can find a few more distinct family members. Maybe even friends outside the family line that has known the older Greengrasses." Dumbledore said as he pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. "Astoria, your constant illness is nothing short of ordinary. But I intend to help you in any way that I can. You say your older sister has known your grandparents?"

"Yes, but she was probably just two years old before they've passed. Haven't got the faintest clue on what our grans would have said to her by then." Astoria shook her head, but her answer – though a dead end – hardly did anything to suppress her new-found purpose. At least she had _something_ to start with. "I'll try and see what I can do to find out more about my family."

"As shall I." Dumbledore confirmed and they finally stopped in front of a gargoyle statue, knowing full well that this was probably the end of their conversation. "Can you do me the honor of a few favors, Ms. Greengrass?"

"Anything, professor," She said a tad bit too cheerfully, but she didn't mind. She had a lead. She had _something_ after what seemed like years now.

"I would like you to deliver this message to Harry Potter, if you will." Dumbledore then conjured up a piece of parchment with his wand out of nowhere and handed it to her. "I think you'll find that he's about in the Great Hall."

"Of course." Astoria nodded as she stashed the parchment into one of her jeans' pockets. "Thank you. For everything, really, professor."

"Oh, don't thank me just yet, Ms. Greengrass," Dumbledore chuckled heartily. "We have a number of certainties to look into before we go into a zone of utmost gratefulness."

"It's a start, and I would still thank you for it." She smiled at him gratefully nonetheless.

"The second favor I wish to ask concerns of the person you've been tutoring quite recently." Dumbledore continued; and at the sound of tutoring did her face fall in the slightest.

"Draco Malfoy?" Astoria asked in a small voice, feeling the guilt eat her up by the second. She really should have told him why she'd been gone for so long. Though she suspected Daphne's already saved her the trouble by doing that herself – still, what would he think of her? She certainly didn't want him to think that she was irresponsible when she was quite far from that. "What about him?"

"I'd like for you to keep an eye on him." The professor said. "Befriend him, if you will."

"Befriend him?" She almost laughed at this idea but she suppressed herself. "With all due respect, headmaster; but… he's quite difficult to befriend these days. I barely speak to him and the only time I do is when we wordlessly meet up for the tutoring sessions. Although I admit they've been well off, but I hardly think I'm the perfect candidate for the matter."

"I had thought you might say that." Dumbledore shook his head in amusement, a smile gracing his lips as if he knew a secret that she didn't. "Just keep an eye on him, then. He's a very… well, _complicated_ is far too worded. More like, he's in need of proper company. And I merely find that you'd be one great company to him as time would pass. You are, in my most humble opinion, one of the very rare people that have shown him a great kindness. I know what you're like, Ms. Greengrass. You see the best in people and I find it quite admirable. Surely you'll find something good out of Draco."

"Well, if it helps you sleep at night, professor. I'll do it, but it won't be short of easy." Astoria nodded before smiling back at him, blushing just slightly at how he had praised her. She had no idea what she was getting into, but she certainly owed Dumbledore in ways she couldn't possibly imagine. Just that one little favor certainly won't hurt her now, would it?

"Oh, it surely won't. But I don't doubt you'll do just fine, Ms. Greengrass. You are, as I would personally like to consider, one of the wisest witches of your age." Dumbledore chuckled before jutting his chin towards the hallway behind them just as the tower bell echoed throughout the castle. "Best you get into a bit of a run with that letter to Harry and be back to your dormitories in time. I believe your sister had just finished classes."

Her eyes widened at this and she turned around to find that students were already starting to mill about in the hallways, coming fresh out of class. Astoria thanked the headmaster again rather hastily before scampering as far away from the crowd of students as possible, each hurried step a curious, but victorious one.

What does Dumbledore see in her that would make him think she's proper company to none other than the arrogant Draco Malfoy himself? She paid the idea no mind at the moment. Right now, all she needed to focus on was getting the note to Harry and not get caught out of bed by her sister. Astoria definitely didn't want another difficult hex to counter by tomorrow.

* * *

"Ay, bugger off, you lunatic!" Astoria howled at her sister as she tried to get past her.

"No, you're still sick, Tori!" Daphne yelled a little louder as she pushed her away from the wooden door right behind her. "I am not letting you out of this room, you hear me?"

"You're not mum, Daph!" She stomped her foot this time, regardless of how childish she might have looked.

It was already half past six in the evening. Nearly three hours after she had given the note Professor Dumbledore asked her to deliver to Harry, she woke up in her bed feeling exhilarated. The tinge of pale on her skin had come back to its normal, peach color and her nose wasn't as red as it was days ago. She was finally better, and the first thing she wanted in her venture of being well was to go down to dinner. But apparently when she told her sister about it, she was reluctant to believe her.

"I'm acting mother, and that's just as close!" Her sister shrieked as she pressed her back against the wooden door. "You can leave this dormitory _tomorrow_. Tonight, I just need you to rest just a bit more. We aren't quite sure because who knows? You might get sick again if you actually leave this room."

"You're being ridiculous. I'm perfectly fine!" Astoria groaned, already growing tired of the ludicrous back and forth between her and her sister. "I swear, Daphne Greengrass, if you don't let me out, I'm telling mum that you're dating Blaise Zabini."

At the mention of Blaise's name, Daphne's cheeks turned the color of ketchup before furiously stomping her foot in anger. "What in Merlin's pants are you talking about? I'm _not_ dating Blaise Zabini and I'll be damned to hell if I do end up dating him."

"But mum and dad already suspect you're dating him, and they hardly believe a word that comes out of that mouth of yours whenever you deny it." She couldn't help but grin now, feeling the course of her argument overpowering her sister's. "It's my word against yours, Daph."

Daphne seemed to be considering this, and her expression went back and forth between being flustered and finally giving in to the black mail. When she finally looked like she made a decision, she looked up to her and cast a menacing smirk. "If you don't stay up here, I'll tell mum and dad _you're_ dating Draco Malfoy."

"What kind of rubbish black mail is that?" Astoria couldn't help but laugh at this seemingly awful joke. "I wouldn't touch Draco Malfoy with a ten-foot pole, let alone date him. He hates me! And I don't particularly fancy him like I used to. Besides, mum and dad know that I don't even talk to him that much."

"But they know you're tutoring him. And that's as much talking as anyone can get." Daphne countered. "And you know how they don't want you to have any sort of relations with him, regardless of our family's loyalty to the Malfoys. He's a walking menace and if they so much as find out you're anywhere _near_ him, they'll have your head for Briseis to eat."

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard." She continued to laugh at this as she sat on the foot of her bed to keep herself upright. Her sister's argument was futile, no matter how true they may seem. It was funny how she'd completely forgotten her parents' warning on not talking or even looking at Draco Malfoy.

Just then, a knock came from the door. Daphne turned around to open the door and looked just about ready to yell, but stopped when she saw that it was Blaise.

"I thought you two might be here." Blaise grinned impishly at them as he leaned against the door's frame. "Ay, still locking up Rapunzel in her tower now, I see."

"Blaise, can you please tell Daphne that her threat of telling my parents that I'm "dating" Draco Malfoy is the worst possible black mail in the history of all black mails." Astoria started as she crossed her arms on her chest.

Blaise threw his head back in laughter, and she saw that Daphne was blushing even more than she already did just a few minutes ago. Her sister smacked Blaise's chest fruitlessly before stepping away from the door, mimicking Astoria's actions.

"Not with a ten-foot pole, for both you _and_ Draco." Blaise shook his head as he calmed down before turning to Daphne. "Daph, I admire your spirit, but that's got to be the thickest black mail I've ever heard."

"You're a complete ass, Zabini!" Daphne finally spoke, though her voice wavered. "Besides, I'm doing it for her own good. She can't be bothered to walk around at this time of night. She says she's feeling _better_ , but I seriously doubt it."

Blaise looked her from head to toe before nodding. "Well, she _does_ look better. No reindeer nose and not as pale as an _inferi_. Just let her off, luv. She's not a child anymore."

"Thank you!" Astoria exclaimed in relief as she sat up and walked towards the door.

Daphne put a hand out to halt her as she yelled, "No! Blaise, I cannot bloody believe you're taking _her_ side!"

Astoria eyed Blaise knowingly, and a little understanding went between them. While she hadn't known Blaise as long as Daphne has, she's considered Blaise like an older, wiser brother – and someone who she greatly looked up to. Her sister went on and on with her tirade about precautions and how late it already was at night, and by the time that she finished her, no doubt, well-rehearsed speech – everything went into utter chaos.

The last thing she saw as she ran out of her room, still in her jammies, was Blaise shoving Daphne out of the way and further into the room. She didn't know what Blaise did or if he'd done any harm to her sister – though she doubted he'd do anything to hurt her. Astoria could still hear her sister screeching as she rushed the steps down towards the Slytherin common room, and by the time that she's reached the stone wall that had just opened with a few rumbling; her sister's onslaught seized.

But the moment she got out of the passage, she heard the sound of the stone wall a few feet behind her open. Astoria made the mistake of turning around as she saw Daphne running up to her, Blaise trailing just as quickly behind her.

"Tori, you get back here right now—"

"Run, little Greengrass!" Blaise's voice overpowered Daphne's, his baritone laugh resounding throughout the passage.

And with that warning alone, Astoria ran as fast as her nimble feet could take her. She didn't even know where she was going, only that she wanted to get as far away from her sister as possible. That meant running flights and flights of stairs upwards, accidentally bumping into a few students here and there. She even caught up to Luna but before she could say anything, her blonde friend had dodged her quicker than a Snitch would. This left her a little bit disoriented, but she climbed further up the stairs until she reached the seventh floor.

Surely her sister wouldn't catch up to her here. Nobody ever went as far as the seventh floor. Well, that's what she at least thought until she heard voices and the sound of a large door creaking shut down the corridor. At this, she instinctively hid herself behind one of the hog statues and tried to peek through the small, open crevices of it.

And as expected, there were three looming figures at the end of the hall; just near the stairs that would lead one up to the Astronomy Tower. She couldn't quite see who they were due to what little light was provided, but she recognized one of the voices the minute it raised just an octave higher.

"Why can't you just tell us what you've been up to in that room, Malfoy?" Crabbe's voice resounded throughout the quiet corridor. "Are you meeting with someone there?"

"I bet it's with Pansy, eh?" Goyle remarked with a chuckle. "You two meeting up in that room to shag?"

"Shut your filthy mouth, Goyle." Draco's voice was louder than his two companies. "Now get out of here before I hex your thick heads into next Tuesday. Go! Now!"

"Alright, alright!" Crabbe said irritably as he and Goyle walked further down the corridor.

Astoria had to press herself back against the wall in case the two boys saw her lurking. As soon as she heard their resounding footsteps going downwards, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She also hadn't realized that she did it so loudly that she jumped at the sound of Draco's voice yelling, "Who's there?!"

She swallowed hard this time, no doubt having already been caught in the act. The witch took a deep breath yet again before slowly leaving her spot next to the hog statue. Astoria looked up to see Draco in the small light that the open stairs to the Astronomy Tower provided. He had his wand up defensively and he was clad in all black; shirt, pants, everything. He looked a little out of it than she normally would see him. His skin had a tinge of gray and dark bags seemed to be forming under his eyes. His hair was in shambles and from his head; she could see a trickle of sweat running down its side.

Once she read the recognition in his eyes, Draco lowered his wand and stashed it into his coat's pocket as he asked, "What are you doing here, little Greengrass?"

"I could ask you the same question, but I don't need you to tell me to bugger off like you did to Crabbe and Goyle." Astoria answered a little bravely as she fully revealed herself and walked a few steps closer towards him. "I just about ran away from my sister. I doubt she'll come up here, but I don't doubt her better judgment. She'll flip this place upside down until she finds me."

"Who've you left her with?" He asked her distractedly.

"Blaise." She said plainly, crossing her arms on her chest instinctively as a cold breeze went past her.

"Ah," Draco chuckled just a bit before clearing his throat. "I'm sure she'll be well distracted, then. Are you sure you should be up here at night? It's pretty late."

"I'll take my chances staying up here for another hour. Or well, up in the Astronomy tower is better." Astoria shrugged as she began walking towards the stairs that lead upwards. "Please don't tell my sister I'm here. I've been trying to get away from her for over a week now."

He shook his head at her and she saw the look of amusement gracing his features. "You really think I'm going to let you off at this time of the night? You seem to forget that I'm a _Prefect_ , and I take no pleasure in taking away points from my house."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at him playfully. " _Our_ house, Malfoy. And by all means, join me if you can't reprimand me. It's quite a lovely night and by the looks of it, you look like someone who needs a bit of fresh air."

Draco arched a curious brow at her, his lips curling slightly. "By Salazar, you're ridiculously frustrating, Astoria."

Astoria felt the hair on her skin rise at the sound of her name coming from him. Usually she never quite took much into account the rarity of him saying her name. But this time, it sounded more genuine, almost playful in the sense. It sounded vulnerable, but also natural – and she wished every day that he would just regard her by that instead of the _little Greengrass_ tease.

"The feeling's mutual, Draco." Her soft voice said in reply, winking at him for good measure before walking up the steps. A part of her was afraid to turn and see how he had reacted to her small act of bravery, but there was another part of her that was just dying to see how he'd taken it. To her sheer surprise, he took the latter and found that he was staring at her. And by Merlin, it was nearly impossible to decipher his emotions.

To ease the tension of the situation, she beamed at him. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

The witch no longer bothered to turn around and check for his reaction now as she climbed further up, and only when she was nearly at the top did she hear his footsteps following her. As soon as she reached the top; a harsh, cold breeze passed her. _Mistakes have been made_ , she thought to herself as she walked further into the space.

The Astronomy Tower was probably one of her favorite places to hide if she needed a tad bit of escape from the cruelty of reality. The room was open-aired and circular in structure. There were telescopes and constellation maps lining the sides where they were mostly used for their Astronomy classes. The view from the tower was her favorite because it overlooked the whole of Hogwarts – every foreground and open grass space could be seen from where she stood. For the first time in weeks, she felt absolutely free.

Her reverie was disrupted by the sound of Draco's footsteps finally reaching the tower. Astoria turned around to find that he, too, seemed to be marveling the open-air and view that the high-rise provided. He walked up to her and stood just a few inches beside her, his eyes trailing towards the Black Lake where it sloshed gently against the castle walls.

"Where have you been all week?" Draco asked her quietly; as if afraid they'd be overheard.

Astoria leaned against the balcony's railings, her eyes surveying the castle grounds before replying, "Has Daphne not told you yet?"

"She only told me you got sick again, and that was Monday. I haven't spoken to her since." He replied plainly as he leaned against the railings, scratching his left forearm absentmindedly.

"Aw, did you miss me?" She asked with a slight smirk on her lips. "I can't imagine you would. I thought for sure you'd be glad to be rid of me. You never did like being tutored by a _fourth year_ , even if it is sort of helping you in a way."

"Don't flatter yourself, little Greengrass." Draco scoffed before allowing a smirk to grace his lips. "While I don't particularly enjoy being tutored by someone two years younger than me, I have to admit that it's been surprisingly helpful the first week."

Astoria beamed at him upon hearing this, but also looked equally surprised. "I got sick Friday night actually, and it went on till' last week. I was bedridden in my room the whole lot of it, with Daphne throwing one hex after another at my door in case I got any ideas of escaping. She does like to quarantine me when I'm sick. I did a counter curse four days later and sneaked off to the library whenever she wasn't around to check on me. It wasn't easy."

"Merlin, aren't you just the little princess?" He laughed at her, his grey eyes though somber, twinkled with genuine amusement. "Well, I certainly hope you're feeling a tad bit better now. You do look like it, considering how you don't have the reindeer nose and haven't got the color of a corpse."

"I am." She nodded at him before turning way; hardly bearing the fact that he was staring intently at her now. _Merlin's pants_ , she cursed in her mind as she bit her bottom lip. To be fair, she wasn't exactly used to getting stared at. Usually, she'd get the occasional glance and that was it. Next to Daphne, she was nothing – simply a shadow of her own sister. But at the way Draco was staring at her now, he didn't seem to see her in that way.

There was a pregnant silence between them as they both watched the scenery before them. The night grew colder as the clouds parted to reveal a full moon, the sound of werewolves coming from the Forbidden Forest resounding throughout the grounds. It was peaceful and quiet, and she wished it could simply be this way all the time.

"How's your mom?" Astoria asked all of a sudden as she trailed her fingers against the wrought iron railings. "I mean, how is she holding up with… you know…"

She heard Draco sigh in reply, and she looked up to him at this. A crossed look graced his features but then it immediately fell into a simpering, almost vulnerable look – like he didn't know it was even possible to look that way.

"She's… She's a mess." Draco offered, treading his words carefully while not revealing too. "Is that how you women react? Like you've lost the bloody world and all?"

Astoria pursed her lips briefly, considering his question. "I mean, I would. I'd be a sure darn mess if I found out my husband was being imprisoned in Azkaban. It would break my heart. I probably wouldn't be able to function for days."

It seemed the most reasonable answer. One day, he had feared his mother had gone mute from the grief—as though his father had just died instead of being locked up behind bars. The only thing that seems to shake his mother awake, literally from her reveries and her sleep, was to constantly check on Draco; just to see if he was still there.

He nodded at this placidly before looking her in the eyes. "They care about each other. My parents, that is. More so my mother than my father, at least. They're almost never one without the other, I guess. They just seem so… _whole_ when they're together."

"That's _love_ , Draco. The oldest, most powerful magic there is, as remarkably cheesy as it sounds." She said softly as another cold air breezed by, causing her to shiver a little more than needed. Perhaps she really shouldn't have left the dormitories in her jammies, though it was either being quarantined in a stuffy room or this – and honestly, she'd most prefer the latter; thin jammies and all.

"I don't think I'll ever have one like that." Draco admitted mournfully as he looked down at his left forearm. Astoria stared at him. "Yeah, I'm most certain I'll never have that. It seems futures away, apart from the fact that it's the last thing I need right now."

"But one of these days you'll have it. _Everyone_ deserves something like that, regardless of who they are and what they've become." Astoria told him gently as she mindlessly took a hold of his right arm. "You may be a right arrogant man and a real pain, but whoever says that you don't deserve something as innocent and kind as love will hear it from me."

She saw his mouth twitch a bit as he looked up to meet her gaze this time.

"You really should be turning in right now." He said a little loudly, breaking their gaze as he started to remove his black coat. She pulled her hand away from him as if she'd just been burned all of a sudden. "It's late and we'll be damned by Filch if he finds out we're still here."

Astoria nodded wordlessly as she turned to look away from him as well. What the bloody heck just happened? Of all the things she had expected this night to turn out; it definitely did not involve an out-of-the-blue deep conversation with Draco. She could practically hear her mother screaming at her to stay as far away from him as possible. But by Salazar, she felt like a moth drawn to a flame.

Suddenly, she felt a heavy cloth land on her shoulders and nearly jumped in surprise if it hadn't been for Draco's hands steadying her as he fitted his coat around her. The warmth that the coat provided felt remarkable; the slightest distinction of a fruity scent wafted around. It smelled quite surprisingly like green apples.

"You don't have to." Astoria told him softly as she locked eyes with him, trying to pull off the comforting embrace of the coat. "You'll get cold too."

Draco chuckled lowly as he pulled the coat a little tighter around her shoulders. "Don't be ridiculous, little Greengrass. You're in the thinnest jammies in existent, and I'd be a bloody idiot if you start getting sick again. I'm failing my potions class because of my lack of tutoring, as much as it pains me to admit it."

She bit her bottom lip to suppress her laughter, but a small giggle escaped her as he lead her towards the stairs. "I promise I'll be as well as a newborn Phoenix tomorrow. You won't be failing your potions class again."

"Good, cause Slughorn said we're doing hands-on soon." Draco said lowly before she felt his breath against her ear. "And personally, I think it's about damn time we did that."

A cold, though frightfully exciting shiver ran down her spine at how close he was to her. Whatever Draco assumed was "hands-on" certainly had nothing to do with actually making potions. But she ignored his insinuation shyly as they went further down the stairs, hoping he wouldn't bring it up again.

Merlin help her for what she might have done if he did.


	6. Chapter 6: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Draco**

 **November 1996**

October went by as fast as the first month back to Hogwarts. Two months have passed and Draco still didn't have any luck with the mission that the Dark Lord entrusted. Most people would consider him to be at one with the Dark Arts, but the last thing he wanted to do was murder somebody. He couldn't possibly do it – it was a violation of nature's law and not only that, but he couldn't bear to be the person to have to do it, that is, to kill Albus Dumbledore.

He used to be proud of the opportunity of course. He acted around his friends as though he was still upbeat about it, ready to perform it at any given moment. But deep down, behind the sneering pride, was the feeling of guilt—in spite of not having done anything remotely close to what he was supposed to… _yet._

And thus, his stagnant progression in the matter had resolved to desperate measures. An attempt, being, to have a cursed necklace sent to Dumbledore second-handedly.

During his visits at Hogsmeade to practice Occlumency with his aunt, he had put Madam Rosmerta under the _Imperius_ curse and cast a _Protean_ charm on two coins, giving one to her, so that it'd be easier for them to communicate. He set the witch to give a cursed necklace to an unknowing Hogwarts student three days prior to Hogsmeade weekend, considering that he was stuck in detention with McGonagall that very day. In that instance, he knew it would work – for who could have guessed that the great Dumbledore's downfall would be that of a necklace cursed with the darkest magic? But when the student that was supposed to deliver the necklace – Katie Bell – touched a bit of it, everything went to hell. This depressed him in more ways than one, and had him spend three sleepless nights wondering what else could have gone wrong.

If he hadn't had any luck with that one mission, he hadn't had one with the case of mending the Vanishing Cabinet. He'd been going there every night since the start of the school year, having great difficulty every time he had come close to doing it. The books in the library have taught him that it takes several numbers of great concentrations to pursue the fixing of the Vanishing Cabinet, and despite his own version of "focus", he was unfortunately none the wiser.

Today was one of the biggest Quidditch matches to grace the school, _Slytherin VS. Gryffindor_. As Seeker, and perhaps had it been a normal school year, he would have had the heart to play for his team and beat those blundering Gryffindors while also watching Weasley make a fool of himself. He's seen the red headed moron play Keeper and he was the worst he'd seen in the history of the game. But as much as his ego wanted to play a big part in the game, he took this opportunity of free time to fix the Vanishing Cabinet. Hence, he paid someone else to take his place in the match.

"Malfoy, this is ridiculous. I'm not drinking this bloody thing." Crabbe complained as he threw in a bit of Flora Carrow's hair into the bubbling green goo of the Polyjuice potion. "It's repulsive."

"And why turn us into girls? Do you know how weird that would feel?" Vincent agreed just as he too put in a bit of Hestia Carrow's hair into his own bottle of the potion.

"If you two don't stop complaining, I'll have you both eating slugs for the rest of the week, you hear?" Draco told them tartly as he looked out towards the corridor, checking to see if anyone was with them there. The seventh floor was always quite abandoned, having little to no significance except of course for the location of the Room of Requirement and the stairs leading up to the Astronomy Tower. "Now drink those bloody potions down to the last drop or I'll have you both hexed with boils this instant!"

This seemed to have triggered their fear and with the two chugging down the disgusting potions, their bodies began to lurch and twist in odd angles. What was once Crabbe and Goyle, tall and tough in figure; turned into the small, petite forms of the Carrow twins. They examined themselves in disgust before laughing like a bunch of idiots.

"Thick heads," Draco muttered under his breath as he beckoned them to follow him down towards the end of the corridor near a set of stairs leading upwards.

As soon as he was face to face with the brick wall, he turned towards the two with a blight sneer. "You know the drill. Keep an eye out for anyone coming about, hex them for all I care and if there's any danger – use the coins I gave you. Don't follow me inside if you still want to see the light of tomorrow, you hear?"

As usual, the two exchanged confused looks the way they have been for the past two months now in taking guard. Perhaps they've grown out of the habit of questioning him because they both nodded their approval and turned their backs on him, taking out their wands as they did so.

Draco wordlessly turned his back on them and began to concentrate on what he wanted. _I need the room where the Vanishing Cabinet resides. I need to mend it. I need no one else to get in there right now except for me._ He repeated this mantra three times as he had done for so long, and with a slight _woosh_ of a sound; two rusted double doors appeared before him. With a wave of his wand, one of the doors opened and he slipped through it.

Shutting the door behind him, he examined his surroundings. It looked exactly like an attic full of random things – bookshelves, cupboards, boxes, dusty sofas and materials of all kinds. He navigated through them with ease before arriving in the middle of the room where a tall cabinet stood covered by a red duvet. With a swish of his wand, the duvet slipped off the cabinet and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

He opened the door of the rickety cabinet, seeing nothing but an endlessly dark void in it. One of his hands reached for his pockets, took out a galleon and placed it inside. He shut the door with his free hand and pointed his wand before the cabinet as he started to chant the needed charm.

" _Harmonia Nectere Passus_." He chanted eerily as he closed his eyes. The sound of the cabinet trembling resounded throughout the quiet room. During the first two months, he had considered this a sign of progress – but by the time that that was all it had done since then; he hardly believed it was doing any good.

" _Harmonia Nectere Passus._ " He said a little louder now, pinching his eyes harder this time. A part of his mind traveled into a space of just him and the cabinet and his intentions to mend it. He focused on fixing it like he would fix a broken wooden box or healing it like he would a harmless creature. The trembling stopped.

Draco opened his eyes before swinging the cabinet's door open, disappointed and fretted to find that the galleon was still there. The Vanishing Cabinet was supposed to transport the galleon into cabinet's twin in Borgin and Burke's or at least stay in limbo. Frustrated, he slammed the door's cabinet once more and concentrated further.

" _Harmonia Nectere Passus._ "

He continued focusing on parallels of fixing the cabinet. But for some reason, his mind drifted elsewhere – out of the space and purpose of his coming here. Suddenly, an image of Astoria Greengrass in her jammies came to view. It was the day that he had gone up to the Astronomy Tower with her after not being able to see her for over a week then. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, she looked beautiful. Disheveled with her hair all over the place and her green eyes so tired they threatened to close; she was practically a walking siren. He remembered feeling her hand on his arm, and not just any arm, but the arm where the dark mark was imprinted. He felt a sense of calmness, almost at peace for the first time in months, at her touch.

Then the scene shifted to the moments when they started doing hands-on potion making. It was one of those tutoring sessions for the past few weeks. He would, of course unintentionally, mistake one ingredient from another causing several potion blowups that ultimately ended up in laughter. Astoria's laugh was like hearing a symphony, a nearly perfect crescendo. Her face was covered in soot and her hair had essence of revolting goo, but she didn't seem to care about it.

 _"That's the fifth time today, Draco." She would say between relentless giggles as she tried to recover his potion by diluting it with common ingredients. "One more mistake like that and we might just blow up all of Scotland."_

 _"It's not like I actually meant to do it." He would tell her crassly at first, but her laugh was far too contagious that he couldn't help but chortle at his own failure. It was the first time he ever laughed at failing at anything. "You do it, then, if you're so clever!"_

 _Astoria shakes her head in delight as she handed him bits of powdered unicorn horn. "Just add them gently, one pinch at a time. You can't expect to learn if you just keep watching. Some things you have to do on your own."_

 _He rolled his eyes at this, but did as he was told. When the potion they'd been brewing finally turned to its supposed color, he and Astoria released sighs of relief._

 _"See?" Astoria grinned at him, her green eyes never leaving his grey ones as she stepped closer next to him, the scent of vanilla and roses – he realized lately was actually her perfume – growing stronger. "You just have to keep trying. I know you think you're a hopeless case now, but I believe in you. I'll always believe in you."_

Draco's lips tugged at the memory and was snapped out of it when he felt his left pocket sear painfully. He took out the coin that was in there and saw a message conveyed in it: _Blaise and Pansy._ He cursed under his breath before hurrying towards the double doors, hardly giving the Vanishing Cabinet any thought. If he was discovered, everything could all go to hell – as if it hadn't already.

As soon as he left the room, he saw Flora Carrow – or Crabbe – trying to block Blaise and Pansy from their view. The two Slytherins was finally able to push past him when they saw him with Goyle, or Hestia.

"Draco, mate!" Blaise said as he and Pansy trudged towards him. "Where have you been? Are you bloody mad? We lost the damn match to _Gryffindor_ , **again**."

"Oh, Draco, honestly, you've been acting really odd these past few months." Pansy continued for Blaise as she was the first to reach him from where he was. Her face had contorted into sheer worry as it always had when she suspected something off about him.

It's not that he didn't admire the attention or anything but he really was starting to get annoyed of her constant questioning that rivaled Blaise's. He had been acting odd, but it was mostly out of his confusion and need to tell them what was really going on. Honestly, he just couldn't bear to tell them even if he wanted to. If he did, Merlin knows what the Dark Lord might have done. He was forbidden to speak of it. It was better they didn't know, and better that he would distance himself from them. If anything, he was doing his friends a favor.

"It's nothing, the both of you," He told them heatedly as he began to shove past them. No matter how much he hated not talking to them, it pained him just a bit to see the look on their faces. "I've told you a thousand times, I just haven't been feeling well."

"Mate, we're your friends." Blaise suddenly said, and this caused Draco to look up to him in surprise. "I know it hasn't been the most obvious word to put out there, but we are. And you've been completely out of it these past few months. We're just worried, mate. We care about you."

"We do." Pansy agreed, her blue eyes softening as she said this. It surprised him just as well to see this kind of vulnerability in Pansy. He had fancied her at one point, and he would be an idiot to say he didn't still fancy her now. After all, they had been in this warped and unadulterated, though not official, relationship for nearly two years. He had told her things he wouldn't say out loud and she's seen through him, but never has he seen her drop the cold, ugly façade of being mean-spirited till' now. "Draco, please."

Draco felt as though he was swallowing rough sand. He wanted to tell them. He wanted to say _help me_. He couldn't do this. He couldn't possibly do what he was asked to do. But then he's reminded of his father in Azkaban. He's reminded of his mother, and the loving look she often gave him as she dotted on him. He couldn't lose them – if he did, he wouldn't forgive himself. And at this point, he'd rather lose his friends than his family.

Blaise and Pansy, as well as Crabbe and Goyle still in the forms of Flora and Hestia Carrow, seemed to have been silenced by his sudden show of vulnerability. At this, he cleared his throat and tried to suppress the tears that threatened to brim his eyes.

"It's like I said for the thousandth bloody time," Draco said coldly as he shot daggers at them, though he didn't feel it had the same effect that it usually did. "It's **_nothing_.** "

And as he walked away from them, he could hear Blaise and Pansy's calls – but he blocked them out, just as well as he should soon block out Astoria Greengrass. Draco didn't need any more liabilities, especially now that the weight of his mission was starting to grow harsher and harsher by the days.

* * *

Draco skipped his entire afternoon classes the next day thanks to, dare he say it, the Weasleys' puking pastilles. He ate the orange end and began puking enough for some of his Slytherin classmates to see as they headed for their Transfiguration class. Some of them offered to take him to the hospital wing, but they waved them off before sneaking away up to the seventh floor, eating the purple side in the process to stop his malignant puking. It was three hours' worth of trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet and, though not surprised, yet again to no avail.

Deciding that tomorrow was another day, he headed down towards the dungeons where he would be meeting Astoria for their tutoring session. While he had been up all night planning other ways to get smuggled dark artifacts to Dumbledore for his mission, he was also thinking of ways to stop his tutoring with little Greengrass. He pestered Slughorn all morning about it, but he tatted and reminded him of their agreement so many times that he was _this_ close to smacking the potions master with his own cauldron.

The minute he found out that he had harmed Katie Bell, he knew that the assassination attempt was a failure at most. He realized then that he needed to keep his distance away from Astoria. He had tried so many times to piss her off, almost most of the time succeeding and the other fifty half or so of her trying to lighten the mood despite his attempts at a cold and distant tutoring session. At this, he had hoped that he'd drive her up the wall so much that she'd be the one to give up and tell Slughorn herself that she didn't want to go on. But the bloody little Greengrass just had her ways, and it both frustrated and amused him. He was starting to hate himself for it.

As soon as he arrived in the potions classroom, he was surprised to see that she was already there. Usually he arrived earlier than her, but he must have missed the time being stuck in the Room of Requirement. Astoria looked up when he closed the door behind him and he saw her grace him that ridiculously adorable smile of hers.

"You're late, you know?" She asked him playfully as she jotted down something on her parchment. The witch was standing behind one of the tables where two pewter cauldrons were heating up, a number of ingredients splayed before her. "And I thought I was the one with terrible pure-blood manners."

"You still are." He jabbed at her as he put his bag down on one of the chairs and walked up to where she stood. "If I remember correctly, _you_ still associate with mudbloods."

Astoria was dressed in her uniform, though she didn't have her robes and her grey sweater vest on. Her Slytherin necktie was askew, as if it had been tugged on carelessly. But her hair was tied up in a neat, elegant ponytail. A strand or two of her hair was out of the way and it took most of his self-control not to push it gently behind her ear.

The witch met his eye and she glared at him. "Stop saying that word, for goodness' sake. It's offensive and crass, and I am damn tired of wanting to clean that mouth of yours with soap."

"I could think of other things you can help clean my mouth with, little Greengrass." Draco teased, disregarding her lecture on mudbloods. He felt a certain satisfaction upon seeing her blush at his regard, her green eyes widening briefly before she cleared her throat and tried to look away.

"So, Merlin help me, what are we about to brew today?" Draco went on regardless.

Astoria's recovery seemed fatal when he saw that her hands clumsily reached for some of the ingredients. Her two octaves too high voice confirmed his assumptions. "We're brewing _two_ potions, one of each for _Felix Felicis_ and _Amortentia_. I know it's technically a bit illegal, but Professor Slughorn's given me permission to teach you how to make them. And we are to discard the Felix Felicis once it's finished. We can't have people letting that stew for six months, or the Ministry will have our heads."

Draco scoffed. That is if he can even brew it properly, then letting it stew for six months wouldn't have mattered.

"Brilliant," He replied with fake enthusiasm as he looked down at the parchments before him, seeing the ingredients listed down for both potions. "It's got literally the same instructions, but different ingredients."

"Exactly," She said after clearing her throat, her voice back to normal. He shook his head amusedly at this. "But brewing _Amortentia_ is a bit tricky. In fact, it's the hardest potion I've ever seen brewed next to _Polyjuice_. Then again, Polyjuice could take months. Amortentia on the other hand… it's fair tricky, but quick to whip up. Do you want to start working on that, then?"

"Me? On _Amortentia_? I wouldn't touch its ingredients with a ten foot pole, let alone brew it." He told her dubiously as he took the parchment with the Felix Felicis ingredients. "I'd rather work on Felix. I trust my _luck_ on it, if you know what I mean."

Astoria rolled her eyes at him, but he saw her lip twitch a bit. "Fine, then. You work on Felix, but I want you to watch just as closely while I'm working on the Amortentia; agreed?"

"Little Greengrass, you wound me." He shook his head disappointedly as he took an Ashwinder egg and plopped it onto his cauldron, adding horseradish right after before boiling them. "You act as if I'm incapable of common instructions."

"Well, you're awfully stubborn and remarkably arrogant. So, forgive me if I have to act like the leader around here." She fired back at him nonchalantly as she too added Ashwinder egg to her own cauldron, but instead of additional horseradish, she put in three rose thorns. Her eyes shifted towards his cauldron before nodding. "You're doing great so far."

"Oh, shove off, will you?" Draco told her off as he started to press the juice out of a squill bulb.

Astoria snorted softly before turning back to her own potion. They worked in silence for at least five minutes before, though not surprisingly; Draco forgot to grind the Occamy shell and added it straight into his potion. His mixture turned into a sickly shade of green as it began to bubble over and leak out of his cauldron.

Suddenly, the bubbles started bursting like pusses and its contents slathered onto him and Astoria with a repulsive slush. You'd think that by now, after reading about Felix Felicis so much due to his wanting to have his own, that he would remember the diluting solution. But when he finally remembered that that particular solution was to add more juices of squill bulb, Astoria had already done it for him. She pressed the juices straight out of the bulb and into the cauldron and as expected, the concoction stopped bubbling and had returned to its supposed near-golden color.

"That could have been a disaster." Astoria breathed out in relief, shoving goo off of her which surprisingly came off easily as she looked up to him. "You look absolutely horrifying."

"Excuse me? Have you seen your hair? It's _ghastly_." Draco said right back, pointing at the lot of green goo on her now ruined hair.

"At least _I_ know how to remember Felix's diluting solution." She stuck her tongue out at him as he cleaned himself off with a wave of his wand, using the Scourgify spell. "Merlin's pants, you're a menace in potions. Perhaps we should make a game out of this, just to motivate you. You do like games now, don't you, Draco?"

"What are we? _Five_?" He cocked a brow at her, though he was definitely considering her proposal. "What have you got, little Greengrass?"

"If you can't succeed in brewing an _Exceeds Expectations_ Felix Felicis by the end of the day, you have to let me ride your broom." Astoria said cockily. When Draco couldn't help but smirk at what she just said, her cheeks flushed almost immediately before she smacked his arm harshly. "Don't get any ideas, _Malfoy_. I meant, your _Nimbus 2001_."

At this, Draco's face fell. "Not a bloody chance! Are you mad? I'd rather drink an entire bottle of _Draught of the Living Dead_ before I could even give you the chance to ride my Nimbus 2001."

"Then if you don't want that to happen, then I suggest you get on with properly brewing Felix." She said with a hint of arrogance as she went back to brewing her potion, a number of scents already wafting out of her cauldron.

He would _never_ let anyone touch that broom of his. It was his one of his prized possessions, having to have won a number of games against other houses with it and actually winning. Hell, he wouldn't even let _Pansy_ ride it no matter how much she begged, let alone allow _little Greengrass_ to be on it. It was a morbid deal, and he knew he had to match it off with a just as insane one of his own.

"Fine," Draco huffed indignantly as he focused on _actually_ giving his potion a tad bit of effort. "But if I _do_ succeed in brewing an _Outstanding_ Felix, you have to go on the next Hogsmeade weekend with me."

"I have to _what_?" Astoria looked at him bewildered, her cheeks now matching the color of tomatoes; her attention astray from her potion.

"You heard me." He said lowly as he too ignored working on his potion, drawing closer towards the witch before him. "If Felix turns out to be just as _Outstanding_ as you'd hoped, _you_ , little Greengrass, have to go with me. Let's call it a… _date_."

Astoria's mouth was slightly agape now, and he basked at the sight of her rendered completely speechless. He hadn't rendered her that in a while now, and it stroked his sleeping ego how he'd been able to finally do it. Suddenly, their little tirade was interrupted by the sound of Astoria's potion bubbling. His nose was hit by the scent of vanilla and roses, soft and pleasant at first – but now it had dawned stronger, almost palpable.

"You're mad." Astoria finally said in a small voice, her green eyes hardly looking away from his grey ones. "I would _never_ go out with you, Malfoy. My parents would kill me before I could say _Nox_."

Draco initially wanted to sneer at her, but the actions that followed surprised him. One of his arms slid its way around Astoria's waist, pulling her close to him. The sweet smell of vanilla and roses growing stronger – passionate, if there was ever a word to describe a scent. His heart rate quickened and he was astounded when the witch before him placed one of her well-manicured hands on his chest.

"Do you want me to bet on that as well, Astoria?" He asked lowly, testing her name on his lips. As he tightened his grip on her waist, his head swam in an almost trance-like state. She was a lot smaller than he could have imagined, her head barely reaching the height of his nose. It occurred to him just how remarkably beautiful she was up close and how right it felt being this close to her.

Astoria whimpered and his eyes trailed languidly towards her lips. He wondered what they would feel like, what they would taste like. They were small, but readily plump; ripe for the picking. If he could only draw closer… just a little closer... He rested his forehead against hers, breathing in the intoxicating scent that was vanilla and roses, the stirring scent that was Astoria Greengrass.

"Draco…" His name left her sweet lips and just as he was about to swoop in to feel them on his, the sound of a door loudly opening made him jump. In fact he jumped up so hard that he nearly fell over and took Astoria with him.

"Merlin's beard, will you look at the time?" The sound of Professor Slughorn's voice resounded throughout the classroom. He felt Astoria slither away from his arms as she stood upright, and he tried his best to follow her lead.

The professor looked at them curiously now. "What happened to you two?"

Draco opened his mouth, but hardly a word came out of it. Astoria spoke for the both of them.

"Just a little potion conundrum, Professor," She tried to smile at the old man, and he couldn't help but notice that just seconds ago he was damn near close to kissing those sweet lips of hers. "Draco and I are almost done."

"Ah, perhaps I should take a look then!" Professor Slughorn declared, causing Draco to groan in frustration. Honestly, there's a word for people like him who ruin perfectly good moments that were just about to transpire. He just couldn't quite remember it.

The professor looked over their potions earnestly; complimenting Astoria's Amortentia with great pride and considering Draco's Felix Felicis just "passable". He urged them to finish brewing the potions, and with much reluctant, they did as they were told. As Slughorn went on and on about some story of his adventures with one of his own Slub Club alumni, Draco kept eyeing Astoria and her brewing process. She seemed to have recovered from their little moment far quicker than he had.

Still, his actions were seemingly questionable. He knew he was attracted to her _physically_ at one point, but never has he felt any of that attraction go a few degrees up than it had today. It only, then, occurred to Draco why that had been so.

The _Amortentia_ that Astoria was brewing had released what could have possibly been a scent that attracted him. If he remembered correctly, the first time he took a whiff of the love potion – he smelled fresh forest air and apples. That was perhaps a few months ago when he sneaked into the Weasley joke shop to buy some, admittedly, useful skiving snack boxes. He'd passed by the love potion section and was able to identify those three scents. And now… the scent that wafted, and still did, from Astoria's cauldron was the smell of vanilla and roses. The smell of the very witch that he nearly kissed minutes ago.

When he and Astoria had finally finished brewing their potions, Slughorn began to examine them.

"Mint, fresh sprigs of basil and a touch of lilac," Professor Slughorn drawled on admirably as he inhaled the scent of the Amortentia potion. "Well done, Ms. Greengrass. Surely Draco's been keeping an eye out?"

"What?" Draco asked distractedly.

"Keeping an eye out, young Draco. Watching Ms. Greengrass here brew the potion. I certainly hope you have. I might just have you individually tested by the end of November to brew your own love potion." The professor said as he moved on to his Felix Felicis. He dropped a white feather into his transparent potion now, and the feather immediately turned a shade of light yellow. "Merlin's beard, you've done well! Not outstanding, but well above what you normally brew. I'd give it an _Acceptable_. Well done, Mr. Malfoy. Well done indeed! Yes, well, now off you two go then. It's quite late already, you see? You'll miss dessert if you don't go into the Great Hall now."

He and Astoria shared a look before they thanked the professor and left the classroom in haste just as Slughorn cast discarded the Felix Felicis Draco brewed earlier. They walked together up the steps, making their way towards the Great Hall. There was a pregnant, almost awkward silence between them as they walked. It was Astoria that broke that little barrier.

"I guess I'll have to ride your broom, then." She said a little cheerfully. "I did say _Exceeds Expectations_?"

"I've _exceeded_ Slughorn's expectations, haven't I?" Draco argued before looking down at her to find that she was grinning widely now, and he couldn't help but laugh at the sight of her ridiculous smile. However, he silently mourned the idea of someone else being able to use his broom now. "Why do you even want to ride _my_ broom anyway?"

"Because I know you'd _never_ let anyone get at least a foot near it." Astoria told him as a matter of fact. "Plus, I've always wanted to ride a _Nimbus 2001._ I'm not a very good flyer, you see. A _Firebolt_ would kill me. But your broom's model is agile but not dangerously fast enough to have me hurtled into the Whomping Willow."

"If you're not a good flyer, then why on earth have I just agreed to let you ride my broom?" He looked at her incredulously. Suddenly, everything that had just happened in the potions classroom slipped off his mind. "You're not riding that broom, little Greengrass."

"Oh, come on! We had a deal!" She stopped in her tracks before stomping her foot on the ground. It took most of his self-control not to laugh at her childishness. "I will ride that broom, Draco Malfoy, if it's the last thing I do. And if you're so insistent on not having a non-expert flyer on your broom, then by all means, teach me."

Draco shook his head in amusement at her last request. "This is really defeating the purpose of our little game, you know?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Astoria arched a brow at him now, fuming as she crossed her arms on her chest.

He walked up to her before stopping just a few inches from her. "Teach you, you say? I consider that a date and you have just about agreed to it. So, really, at the end of the day, **I won** your little game."

"It is not a date! Y-you said go out with you to Hogsmeade, that's clearly not—" She shrieked at him disbelievingly but her blushing cheeks told him otherwise. "You're twisting this around, Draco, and I won't have it."

"Then you won't have a ride at my broom. Shame, really. I heard they don't sell _Nimbus 2001's_ these days. Guess you'll have to settle for the ol' _Comet_ or that menace of a _Firebolt_ , then." Draco grinned at her before leaning back and walking away from her. It was after trotting five steps away that he heard her follow him down the corridor.

"Fine!" Astoria yelled exasperatedly, and he turned around to smirk at her. Her cheeks were still flushed, but her green eyes looked up to him angrily. "But it's _not_ a date! Merlin forbid my mum hears the word _Draco_ , _Astoria_ and _date_ in one sentence. But I will have my way with that broom, you hear? I still win the game even if you so twisted it around in your own Malfoy way."

Draco's lips curled teasingly at this before saying, "Saturday, then?"

Astoria shook her head at him; her blush couldn't possibly get any redder than they already are as she met his gaze. "Saturday, 1 o'clock near the Black Lake and _don't be late_."

Draco couldn't possibly deny it now. He wanted Astoria Greengrass.

And it was, to say, a more dangerous task than anything he's ever been given; including what the Dark Lord had.


	7. Chapter 7: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Astoria**

 **November 1996**

The Hogwarts Library had been some sort of third home to Astoria, Hogwarts itself being the second. It had _everything_ , and it was far more extensive in histories than the Greengrass family library.

When she arrived at Hogwarts at the age of twelve, the library was the very first thing that she fell in love with. So when she was feeling sad or upset or just plain bored during her free times, one would constantly find her hiding there – just reading, sometimes browsing titles. It was her constant companion in her first year when she couldn't make any proper Slytherin friends due to her muggle-tolerant view. And it still was, even now, as she still didn't have her own set of friends in her year.

Astoria had been in there all week since the little _Amortentia_ mishap during one tutoring session with Draco. Everything that had happened was still burned in the back of her mind, and whenever they caught each other's eye in the Great Hall – he would just grin at her mockingly as if she didn't need any more reminding of what had just happened. But they never spoke of the accident since; which was good on her end. She didn't exactly want to delve into what just happened that time despite her burning questions. Thankfully, they were both wise enough to save each other their embarrassment.

She tried to push these thoughts away, though, as she attempted to concentrate on one of the books she's managed to smuggle out of the Restricted Section with a permission slip from Professor Snape. It was odd how he hardly questioned about the book that she was trying to get from the section, but she decided perhaps that maybe luck was just on her side at that time.

 _The Dark Arts in the Pure-Blood Society_ was a book she had only discovered lately after one little Defense against the Dark Arts class. The only reason she even wanted to read it was to go back far into her family tree. It had been weeks since she last spoke to Professor Dumbledore about her uncommon illness and she hadn't had any luck since on the Greengrass family tree until now. Well, that is, until she opened the book and hardly found a trace of the Greengrasses in it – just as much of a dead end as the records in their own library at home. Though despite her frustration of finding little to nothing on her father's side of the family, she decided to read through her mother's; the Shafiq's.

 _The Shafiq's were a Pure-Blood wizarding family and one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight still extant to this day – the last male bloodline stopping in the 1930's and only a female line since then has existed. To keep the Shafiq's family name at large, the women gave birth to children with their significant others; though they did not bother to marry them so that their children would bear the family name. They had hoped they would be able to bear males to resurface their continuous bloodline, but in record since then, there was no living male Shafiq. The misfortune of only bearing daughters continued for quite some time now, until the tradition was ended by its most recent family members: Cressida Shafiq and Cassandra Greengrass (nee Shafiq)._

 _Cressida and Cassandra were the daughters of Helen Shafiq and Oellius Selewn. Helen's daughter Cressida was born a barren, while her other daughter, Cassandra – after so many generations of unmarried Shafiq women – married Cepheus Greengrass (another Pure-blood line) and had two daughters with him, namely Daphne and Astoria Greengrass. It is now currently in record that Cassandra Greengrass's daughters are attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland._

"What an interesting book you're reading." A familiar dreamy-like voice of a girl said, and Astoria looked up to find, surprisingly, Luna Lovegood staring at her. The blonde wore her hair up in a braid and she was clad in an odd _Witch Sisters_ t-shirt and a pair of luminous jeans, almost the color and sheen of a mermaid's tail.

"Luna!" Astoria yelped unfortunately louder than expected. Some of the students who sat on the table next to hers sent her glares before going back to their reading. She turned to the blonde girl with a look of bewilderment. "Luna, you've… You've been avoiding me for the past two months. You didn't even reply to my owl in August about joining me in Diagon Alley."

"Is that what you truly wanted to send me?" Luna asked curiously as she tilted her head to the side. "I suppose my late assumptions are correct then."

She shook her head in confusion, feeling her eyes suddenly burn as tears threatened to brim. "I don't understand. I sent you my family owl, Artemis. I… I thought maybe you didn't receive the letter on time and assumed it would have been unwise to send a reply. And then the start of the year… you barely looked at me."

Luna nodded calmly as she took the seat across Astoria and began to fiddle with her raddish ear rings. "I'm really sorry about that. You see, I did receive your letter, but it was extremely offensive. I didn't know you were even capable of such words, and I honestly didn't know what to tell you off since then. So I assumed that upon your letter, you didn't want to be friends anymore. I did find it a bit suspicious that you would attempt to get my attention when the school year came, though I tried to ignore it as much as possible. I feared you had turned into one of Pansy Parkinson's minions."

Astoria didn't know what to say. "Wait, so, what letter are we talking about here?"

"I thought you might ask that." Her friend said rather softly before taking out a folded piece of parchment from her jeans and handing it to her. "Here."

She unfolded the parchment hastily and read through it once.

 _August 14, 1996_

 _Dear Luna,_

 _I no longer see the point of our odd connection. I've been friends with you for long, but I believe that it's time for us to part ways as… uncommon acquaintances, if you will. See, as a pure-blood, I have certain expectations to uphold – and despite your half-blood status – I see no reason why I should continue a certain friendship with the daughter of a rather ranging lunatic for a father, not to mention your high tolerance for mudbloods and blood traitors such as Granger and the Weasleys. I fear this may be the last time we'll ever speak, as I do not wish to continue any more of what friendship had transpired between us._

 _Yours,_

 _Astoria Greengrass_

It was the most awful thing Astoria has ever read. And what's worst, it was written in her perfect cursive. She could never imagine herself writing such a foul letter to a seemingly loyal friend such as Luna. At this point, she couldn't blame Luna for her sudden distance – even _she_ would stop talking to someone who would send her this kind of message.

"Oh, Luna," Astoria finally said after what felt like hours. "I would never. You _know_ I would never. You're one of my dearest friends. Quite possibly the only true friend I have in this school. Well, if you count Daphne and Blaise, that is. But that's completely out of the question, though. I know it looks bad, considering how it's literally in my handwriting but… oh, Merlin, Luna. I would rather die than to send you something as foul as this."

"I realized that a lot later than I had intended." Luna sighed apologetically before meeting her gaze. "It was like trying to solve a puzzle for many months and only ever having the answer when you least expect it. You see, earlier today, your sister Daphne boasted quite a bit when she saw me. She asked me what it was like losing a pure-blood friend like you. I gave her nothing of the sort, but when she suspected that I was no longer listening – I overheard her tell Pansy about _writing that letter herself_. And I knew I had to find you."

This was news that took a while for Astoria to process, but when she finally did; anger resurfaced above her confusion. How _dare_ Daphne? Given, she understood why Daphne – even her mother – didn't want her to be friends with Luna. They've been through those kinds of conversations a thousand times already, and yet, she refused to listen to them barrage about her friend's weirdness and association with people unworthy of a pure-blood's attention. But for Daphne, and no doubt had probably conspired with their mother, to actually counterfeit her writing and signature and send something as vile as that to Luna was just too far.

"I'm so sorry, Astoria." Her friend said in a small voice as she looked down at her fidgeting her nails. "I should have confronted you about it the minute we got to Hogwarts. Truthfully, I was a bit surprised. At first, I refused to believe you would send me anything so awful. You're a wonderful friend and a very well-humored one at that. But then it sort of made sense, you see? Now that _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ is back, I suspected you pure-bloods to stick around in your own circle. I really am sorry – my prejudice is as baffling as the letter your sister sent."

"Oh, Luna, _I'm sorry_." Astoria couldn't help the tears now as they slipped down her cheeks, her hands wringing the parchment she was holding before ripping it into tiny shreds. "I'm so sorry Daphne did this. This is just extremely low… absolutely below the belt… I… I really am. You really shouldn't even be sorry to begin with. It's my fault. I should have tried harder… I should have done something when you didn't send a letter back. I…"

"It's alright." Luna said a little cheerfully as she reached a hand out and placed it on top hers that had the ripped up letter balled in her fist. "People make mistakes, even if we didn't really do it to begin with. Although I know your sister would never say sorry, I forgive her. But I forgive you most of all. You're a really good friend, Astoria. I couldn't possibly imagine having a better one than you."

Astoria sniffed as she tried to wipe off her tears with her free hand, smudging it onto her hanky cleanly before placing it on top of Luna's. "Merlin's pants, I've missed you so much. I have _loads_ to tell you. And I certainly mean _loads_."

The blonde smiled up at her excitedly. "How about you start with that very striking book you're reading?"

So Astoria explained about her uncommon illness, which Luna knew much about; having to be one of the people that sent her Honeydukes sweets whenever she ended up in the hospital wing. She told her about her conversation with Professor Dumbledore and how she needed to find any background on the Greengrass family name, but none so far have popped up since the First Wizarding War. Apparently, official and new records of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families hadn't occurred until after the war, right when they no longer had the faintest record of the long Greengrass family tree.

"That's really unfortunate." Luna's face fell.

"It's like the Greengrass's have disappeared from record out of nowhere. Like… like magic!" Astoria said miserably, glaring at the book before her.

Luna looked over the open book before asking, "Have you tried talking to your Aunt Cressida?"

"Aunt Cress?" Astoria asked curiously.

"Well, you never quite mention her a lot." The blonde said plainly as she pointed at her aunt's name written on the book.

"That's because I'm no longer allowed to speak to her, and neither was Daphne." She said slowly. "The last time I did, I was twelve. Mum and Aunt Cress haven't spoken in years, not since that little family mishap. Though mum never mentioned why they truly fought, only that she never wanted us to speak to her again."

"Suspect, really." Luna trailed off dreamily. "Perhaps you should talk to her. Your mum may not want you to talk to her, but if I had nieces that weren't allowed to talk to me, I'd surely miss them. Have you tried writing to her since then?"

"I have, but mum and even dad keep intercepting my letters. And even if I did, I hardly doubt my letter's going to her anyway. Aunt Cress herself likely would have ripped it to shreds." Astoria clicked her tongue irritably, remembering how she wanted to at least send one teensy note to Aunt Cress only to have it burned to nothing but ashes by her mum. "She moved out of the country since the family squabble. I couldn't possibly know her address."

"Where do you suspect she's gone off to?" Luna asked.

Astoria shrugged. "I can't say for sure, although I wouldn't put it past her to leave Great Britain. Also, Aunt Cress's very picky with her living situation. She would want to live in a well-off flat, somewhere where there's hot water and fancy restaurants."

"Do you want me to help you, then?" Luna said, her eyes twinkling with delight. "Dad has a lot of connections with real estate agents in the lot of Great Britain. If what you say is true and that she'd probably want an expensive flat of her own – then we _may_ be able to find her. Though it might take a while, I'm sure it's certainly possible."

"Luna, that would probably the best thing that will ever happen to me. Among other things, that is." She beamed at her friend excitedly. "Oh, what in the world would I do without you?"

"Probably many things," Luna smiled brightly. "You are very talented, Astoria. I don't doubt your abilities and I certainly believe you'll rise up to all of this. You are kinder than most people suspect out of a Slytherin."

"Nothing. I'd probably lose my mind to insanity without you." Astoria answered her own question as she bolted up from her seat and went around the table to pull Luna into a hug. "Don't _ever_ ignore me again, alright?"

Luna laughed melodiously as she stood up and hugged her back. "Never again, Tori."

* * *

Astoria spent the rest of her morning and lunch with Luna, catching up to what she's been going through for the past two months. She was rather surprised to find that her sister, Daphne, wasn't around for lunch – though she was glad for it for she wasn't in her right mind to yell at anybody right now. Perhaps she would once she sees her in the common room.

She had found out, despite her premonition to murder her sister, that Luna's father's publication of _The Quibbler,_ to which Astoria read supportively for the past few years, had gone all the rage since their release of a non-sugar coated interview with Harry Potter on the return of The Dark Lord. While her mother and sister still found it hard to believe, she and her father already knew that what Harry was trying to claim was true – even before his interview on the odd magazine. Other than that, Luna merely spoke about the Rotfang Conspiracy, which she found rather entertaining.

Overall, she simply missed every bit of Luna's company and truly wished at this point that she had really taken her chances and believed that she was worth getting into Ravenclaw so that she could spend more time with quite possibly the only true friend she had.

"Where are you off to after this, Tori?" Luna asked dreamily as she took a bite of her pumpkin pasty. "Mind if I walk you to it? I could use a bit of fresh air. I hear the snow's not that bad."

They walked a few steps out of the Great Hall before Astoria answered, "I'm actually off to… er…"

"Are you off to see Draco Malfoy?" Luna continued to ask as her eyes wandered aimlessly up towards the paintings on the walls. "I've overheard that you were tutoring him. Well, have been tutoring him for the past few weeks lately. I assume you're enjoying yourself?"

Astoria felt her cheeks burn. "Well, it's not that bad… I mean, he's terrible. A menace at potions and I don't doubt he'll blow up the school at one point. But he's… exceptionally tolerable."

Luna smiled at her wistfully. "I know you used to be quite fond of him. And I'm not surprised that you're trying to see his good side. You always did see the best in people, Tori, no matter how unfriendly or awful they are. Though I suspect most people misjudge Draco Malfoy. I also try to think he might be a good person deep down; although he's certainly got a number to prove before people can fully believe that."

"I mean, he's a bit difficult at times," Astoria admitted with a laugh as they made their way towards the entrance of the school and down the foyer where small patches of white snow lay. But it would seem that the snowing had stopped and the sun gleamed over the thick gray clouds. "He's a bully and he was really awful the first time I tried to tutor him. But he… he hasn't been very active in the _pissing people off_ department lately. In fact, he's been looking very sunken and paler by the days."

"You must really love him, then." Luna speculated as she finished her pumpkin pasty. "I bet you'd be the most wondrous lover. You're sweet and loving, and just absolutely kind. Draco would be very lucky to have you."

"Love is a very strong word." Astoria accused her friend playfully, suddenly remembering that one lesson involving _Amortentia_ and a near kiss that might have possibly changed things had it not been for Professor Slughorn bursting in out of nowhere. "No, I think… I'm certainly attracted to him. You know, _physically_. He's not hard on the eye. I'm pretty sure my attraction fell off for the first few weeks of the tutoring. And then it just…"

" _Poof_ ," Luna said dreamily. "It just came back, out of nowhere. Why is that, by the way?"

Astoria told her fleetingly about the Amortentia incident, blushing and doing major hand movements. She hadn't realized that she'd been holding back her reaction towards it for quite some time. As much as she loved Daphne – though that may have decreased since then – she didn't have the heart to gossip to her sister about it. And she really didn't have the many lot of friends to talk to about it either. So her outburst on the matter all went on her unsuspecting friend, and she felt the need to apologize for it.

By the time that she's finished with her story, they had arrived at the top of a small hill and before them was the slope that led to the elder tree where she first tutored Draco. Even from this distance, she could see his figure leaning against the birch tree and to her excitement, his Nimbus 2001.

"Well, dad always says," Luna began as she too eyed the figure down the slope near the Black Lake. "If a man does strange, extraordinary and above and beyond things for a certain someone out of nowhere – they're either bound to already have great attraction towards you or is interested in having to. I don't know about Draco, but I do hope it's the former. I suspect a grand wedding between you two in the future. You'd make lovely children, actually."

"Oh, Luna," Astoria shook her head, her cheeks now probably the color of tomatoes before patting her friend's shoulder. "I'd thank you for your sentiments, but this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about. Trust me; I sincerely doubt I'll be bearing his children someday."

"Don't jinx it, then." Luna grinned brightly as she rose on her tiptoes a bit. "Perhaps I should go. I wouldn't want to ruin what could possibly be a perfectly wonderful date between you two."

"It's _not_ a date!" Astoria found herself shrieking, and she hadn't realized how loud it was till' she saw a few Hufflepuffs eye her suspiciously. The witch cleared her throat before going on. "It really isn't."

"Whatever way you see it, then." Her friend tilted her head to the side teasingly before turning her back on her. "See you at dinner, Tori!"

Astoria merely gaped at her friend that had just disappeared. Well, she'd take Luna's reaction and teasing any day against Daphne's. If she had told Daphne, she'd probably lose a right arm and break several bones from being tossed around in sheer delight by her bumbling sister. The very thought distracted her as she went down the slope of the hill towards the Black Lake.

 _No, she wouldn't tell her sister even if that little git **begged** for it. _She didn't know if she even had the heart to forgive Daphne for what she did to Luna.

It was only when her temper rose to what felt like Celsius' high at the thought of her sister did she realize that she had nearly tripped on a stray tree stump. At the sound of her clumsiness, the figure that was Draco Malfoy leaning against the elder tree looked at her. Merlin's pants, did the man own a closet full of black clothes or what?

Draco was dressed in what seemed to be the same suit he wore the day she saw him at Diagon Alley shopping at _Twilfitt and Tatting's_. Where his hair was usually gelled, it was all over the place, like it's been ruffled from having hands wound through its locks.

"Where have you been?" Draco asked her with a grin, the little bags under his eyes lifting slightly. " _1 o'clock, Saturday, don't be late_? Honestly, we're going round in circles at this, little Greengrass."

Astoria rolled her eyes at him as she stood up a little straighter before ironing her black skirt with her hands. "I was in a bit of a row with myself. I'm not exactly feeling good."

At this, she saw his brows furrow in worry. "Are you sick again?"

"No," Astoria shook her head exasperatedly as she started take out a packet-full of Jelly Slugs. She cut off the plastic and started ripping the heads off the slug-looking gummy angrily. "It's my sister. She just about did the stupidest, most horrendous, below-the-belt thing I have ever encountered in my entire life. Honestly, it's a miracle I'm actually here and not casting Bat-Bogey hexes at her this instant!"

At that point, she realized only later that she had ended up screaming her frustrations with little to no warning. Astoria told Draco about the letter she sent in August; how her mum and Daphne never quite encouraged her friendship with Luna and how Daphne deliberately counterfeited her handwriting and sent Luna the most outrageous letter of unfriending her.

Like the time she told Luna about the Amortentia incident, she was screaming and grunting and doing large hand movements. It took most of Astoria's self-control not to smack Draco in the face whenever he smirked or sniggered here and there at her constant tirade, though she was surprised to see that he looked solemn as she told him the sensitive parts that made her choke back tears.

When she just about finished her rant, she sat down on one of the stumps angrily – hissing and cursing in frustration finishing off the last of her Jelly Slugs, mumbling with her mouth full. She was heaving now, trying to calm her senses as she stared out at the Black Lake heatedly. What she'd give to be in the library right now. It was the only place that would really jest out all of this pent up frustration.

"Bloody hell, I didn't know you were capable of exploding. And, well, menacingly tear off heads from candied slugs." She heard Draco say as she felt him sit down next to her on the stump. Her eyes veered to her left, watching him stare out into the Black Lake. "Loony Lovegood—"

"It's _Luna_ Lovegood!" Astoria voiced sharply as she sent him a menacing look, ignoring his comment about her way of relieving anger by shoving her face with Honeyduke's sweets. "For the love of Merlin! Is it so hard to see the good in other people no matter how odd most people claim them to be?!"

"Alright, alright! _Luna Lovegood_ , then," Draco raised his hands in surrender, trying to suppress a smirk as he went on. "—is obviously one of the oddest people to grace the halls of Hogwarts, but I agree that your sister shouldn't have done that. That was a crock-pot of a move, and they say _I'm_ evil."

She rolled her eyes at him, not having any of this. "I'll kill her! I swear, I'll have her head for this! It's outrageous! It's… it's… _I'll kill her!_ "

"You wouldn't kill a Niffler if it attacked you out of nowhere, little Greengrass." Draco laughed this time, giving up on his attempts to suppress himself. "Honestly, I don't think you'd have the heart to."

This time, Astoria smacked his arm harshly before standing up indignantly. "Honestly, you're just as worst as her! Why do you all have to be so mean all the time?! Would it kill you people to be a little kinder, to be just… **decent** human beings?"

"Astoria," He said her name this time, his tone suddenly serious as he too stood up before holding one of her arms to stop her from leaving. "Alright, I'm sorry, okay? You're right, that was awful. Damn it, just… please don't leave."

She looked at him bewildered, but she swallowed her anger, softening up a bit. "I only meant to pace. I do that when I'm frustrated. I wasn't trying to leave you."

Now Draco was the one who looked as if he'd seen a ghost before his face turned a slight shade of pink. "Right, of course. That's what I was trying to tell you… _don't pace_." He cleared his throat this time to rid of his embarrassment, which made Astoria smile at him softly. "As much as I admire your ferocity, which I find alluring, I believe I still owe you a ride on my _Nimbus 2001_. It'd be a terrible shame if I took out the ol' broomstick for nothing."

Astoria tried to ignore his comment about him finding her alluring by looking at his black broomstick leaned against the birch tree. It really was a sight to behold, and she really did want to learn how to fly properly without looking like a bloody menace doing it. And really, she didn't mind being awfully close to Draco while riding it…

"You're right," Astoria sighed out her frustration, her shoulders slackening in relief just as Draco withdrew his hand from her arm. "I'm sorry. I really am. I'm not usually like this. It's just that… Daphne… gods that blasted little witch…"

Draco smiled at her briefly before walking over to the tree and taking his broom in his hand.

"Flying could take your mind off things, you know." He said as he beckoned her towards him. As she made her way to him, he went on. "I learnt from my father, actually. I was seven when he gave me my first child-size broom. Even _I_ was a menace when I first tried it, and when I finally got the hang of it – mother had to confiscate it, scared that I might get far too used to it. She never did like how I rode my brooms, mostly because I tried to weave as fast as I possibly could with them."

Astoria couldn't help but beam at him at this as she saw him position the broom at length. "You've always wanted to be a Seeker, then? Presumably with the want for speed and all?"

Draco's lips curled into a lithe smile smile. "It's all I've ever wanted to be since my parents took me to Quidditch matches. Though admittedly, I was hardly ever good at it."

"Oh, please," Astoria snorted playfully at him. "Potter may be quick, but you're agile. He moves around like a wasp whilst you move more swiftly. But then again, what the ruddy hell do _I_ know about Quidditch?"

A loud laugh escaped Draco's lips and she soon followed after him, their bright laughter resounding throughout the area down to the lake. Finally, one of his hands patted the handle of the broom before it moved up and hovered in midair, though just low enough to mount it.

"I suppose you already know where to sit." Draco said, nodding towards the handle. "Just move up a bit so I can sit behind you."

Astoria nodded before she mounted herself on the broom, moving just a few inches up to the tip as instructed. When she felt him sit just behind her, his body heat emanating on her back; goose bumps began to dot her skin. Thank Merlin she was wearing a sweater, otherwise her anxiety would have shown.

"Alright, little Greengrass," Draco said behind her and resisted the urge to yelp when she felt his arms snake its way around her waist, his hands splayed warm on her abdomen as he leaned into her a bit. "Just a kick off the ground should do the trick and—"

Just before he could finish, Astoria did just that. She kicked off the ground excitedly before they were both hurtled up into the air real fast. A sharp scream came from her as the broom moved uncontrollably, skidding off from left to right as they were already nearly ten feet off the ground.

"Bloody hell!" She could hear him heaving nervously behind her. "You'll get us killed, you know?"

"I'm sorry!" Astoria shrieked at him as they hobbled in the air dreadfully.

" _Erecto!_ " Draco exclaimed, and thankfully the broom stopped wobbling and straightened itself. She could feel her heart racing still as she looked down to find how high they were. They're probably as high as the height of the Astronomy Tower by now.

"Right, just put your hands on the tip and hold on tightly and _stay calm_." He instructed her as well as demonstrated it by taking both of her hands in his and placing them on the handle half way up the tip. His warm hands lingered on her as he went on. "Don't let go, Astoria."

Astoria nodded as she tried to breathe in and out, containing her drumming heart and her nerves – mostly out of the closeness of Draco than the height of where they were at. She could distinctly smell his lavish cologne; vanilla with a hint of tart apples. The same smell that wafted out of the _Amortentia_ she created only a few days ago. She swallowed at the memory, remembering just how remarkably close she was to being kissed for the first time…

Suddenly, she felt them move through the air. It was a little bumpy at first as they rode, bouncing up and down ridiculously but their laughter at the silliness made the agitation of falling off less frightful. They spent the next ten minutes trying to straighten out their flight, constantly bickering from time to time. Eventually, when they were finally swooping onto the air gracefully and Draco had let go of her hands, that's when Astoria began to feel the thrill of the ride.

Now being able to concentrate on their flight, she looked around and saw all of Hogwarts in its glory. They couldn't go as far as the barrier that had been placed at the start of the school year, but they swooped around and weaved through towers upon towers – seeing some people point at them from the grounds and windows.

"This is mad! But a good kind of mad!" Astoria yelled over the air as they swiftly moved around, passing by the Astronomy Tower.

"What did I tell you? Flying's good!" Draco cried after her as he tightened his grip around her waist, and she felt him pull her closer than necessary. "You're not as bad as I thought you were!"

"You wound me, Draco!" She cackled loudly, the air growing thicker with cold as their broom continued to round the grounds of Hogwarts. "I'm decent enough for a _Nimbus 2001_!"

"Not decent enough to ride alone!" He jabbed at her teasingly, his hot breath fanning her neck wondrously. She turned around and glared at him. "We're never doing this again, you hear?"

"That's not fair!" Astoria told him off playfully and her heart did a summersault when she saw him give her that rather annoying smirk of his.

They held each other's gaze for quite some time, and it honestly felt like they were the only two people on earth – as repulsively cheesy as it sounds. Only when she saw his eyes widen did that feeling dissolve as she felt the violent lurch of the broomstick heading straight for the barrier. Draco unhinged one of his hands from her waist and took hold of the end of the broom, and she had hoped that by that action that their broom would weave off. But it didn't, and Astoria let out a horrifying scream as the broom hit the barrier with a loud explosion. They rebounded against the invisible force and began hurtling down towards the Black Lake.

Astoria braced for the impact of harsh cold waters, but was surprised to find that they had hovered just about it; though their broom wobbled and stirred abnormally as their feet glided ungraciously against the lake. It was only when they reached the shore that they were finally thrown off the broom together, hurtling them against the unforgiving ground as the broom rolled to the side – a bright green smoke emanating from the handle.

There was a load groan and few thuds as their bodies clashed painfully before finally settling their selves on the ground. Astoria had landed, for some reason, on a soft blow only to realize that she was lying right on top of Draco. Her cheeks flushed almost immediately and she tried to get off of him though her attempts were futile as he still had his arms wrapped around her protectively.

"I'm so sorry!" Astoria said in a small voice, her face nearly inches from his. "Oh, Draco, I'm sorry!"

Draco looked at her with what seemed like relief before he sighed and shook his head, now chuckling lowly. "Bloody hell, are you alright, Astoria?"

"I am." She told him breathlessly, feeling her heart race while also feeling Draco's heart thud under her hands. "Are _you_ alright? Merlin, I must weigh a ton and have broken several of your bones!"

The wizard under her was laughing hysterically now, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again to stare at her. "You weigh little to nothing, little Greengrass. Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh, you're just a ridiculous now, are you?!" Astoria cried as she tried to push off of him, but his arms refused to let her go.

"Oi, you two!" Their tirade was interrupted by the familiar voice of Blaise Zabini.

Instinctively, Draco released his hold on her and she immediately shot off him. Her legs wobbled as her hand reached out for a tree branch; holding onto it for dear life. She saw Draco rise and pat a few patches of snow and stray leaves off his black suit which was now dotted here and there with a mixture of dirt and white powder.

Blaise stood a few feet from them with his arms crossed against his chest, a bright, teasing grin splayed on his lips as he went about to going near them. "Did I interrupt something? Merlin, I didn't know tutoring involved snogging. So you've dumped Pansy for little Greengrass, huh?"

"Rubbish," Draco said coldly as he straightened his suit. "What are you even doing here, Blaise?"

"What?" Blaise raised a brow challengingly. "Can't a man have a walk outside the grounds every once in a while? If I had known this place was reserved for a date, I never would have come here and ruined the moment. My apologies mate."

Then the dark wizard turned to look at Astoria. "You alright, there, Tori?"

"Oh, come off it, Blaise." Astoria told him, though she heaved out tiredly as she was still trying to catch her breath.

"No need to get feisty." Blaise shook his head merrily as he leaned his body against the elder tree. "Anyway, I didn't come here for just a stroll, really. I overheard the Luna girl talking to Cho about her friend being on a date at this very moment. And then I thought, Luna Lovegood surely didn't have any friends. Then I remembered she hung out with Potter and those muggle-loving friends of his. But then I realized; who would go on dates with those losers, anyway? And who else could possibly be Luna's friend than—"

"Get to the point, Blaise." Draco groaned his frustration, and Astoria nodded her approval.

"Well, point is; Snape's asking for you, mate." Blaise nodded towards Draco. "I don't know what he's bloody on about, but he needs you to come to his office _now_. Like _now_ now, as much as I hate to break what could have possibly been a _smashing_ snogging session—"

"Shut up, Blaise!" Astoria and Draco said at the same time, and her cheeks flushed when she saw Blaise laugh at this.

"Aw, bloody hell, you even talk at the same time now." Blaise chortled as he doubled over and held his sides. "Merlin help us – we're all doomed if you two end up together."

Draco snorted irritably and she saw him snatch his broom off the ground before making his way up the slope. But before he could, though, she was surprised to hear him whisper to her at a volume low enough for Blaise not to hear but just loud enough for her to understand.

"Till' the next one, little Greengrass."

The hair on her skin rose as his voice melted into her, like butter on warm scones. Astoria bit her bottom lip to suppress a yelp, and she looked up into his grey eyes elusively before nodding. Draco's lips curled playfully before he finally broke the spell by walking away from her, his arm swaying his _Nimbus 2001_ confidently in his stride as he made his way up the slope, looking every bit of the pompous man he was. Only this time, Astoria sought to see him in a different light.


	8. Chapter 8: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: Draco**

 **November 1996**

"Let's try this again, Draco."

"Bella, he's had enough—"

"Don't interrupt me, Cissy!"

Draco's aunt and mother argued aimlessly about him. Not that he was surprised, or anything – they always did fight, considerably a lot more since his aunt escaped Azkaban as far as his mother was concerned. The argument went on for a few minutes, but perhaps by the time that they had finished; his mind was already elsewhere.

It's been weeks since he'd been caught by Blaise and Pansy near the Room of Requirement. Though they never fully ousted it, it was possible that they already figured out where he'd been going off to these past few months. He was, however, surprised to find that they never asked him again. And when he had Crabbe and Goyle double their guarding duties to high alert, the couple never went up to the seventh floor since then.

He didn't know whether they were trying to give him his space as he had wordlessly asked them to or that they just didn't care anymore. It pained him to think that it might be the latter. While he never quite considered Crabbe and Goyle to be his friends, he did consider Blaise and Pansy. They had better minds than the two boys put together and certainly knew more about him than anyone else in the school. It just as troubled him that he had to push them away because any more time spent with them, he might just end up spilling his sins – and he certainly couldn't do that if he wanted both his parents alive.

"Draco, are you sure you can handle just one more?" Narcissa asked him softly, placing a gentle hand against his on the armchair. "Just say the word and we'll stop this now."

"Nonsense!" Bellatrix scoffed unpleasantly as she rounded the room impatiently; the same room they've been using nearly every other week at Hogsmeade to practice his Occlumency. "He's perfectly capable of another go. He's getting better! And surely, if he goes at least five minutes without showing me a single memory – then we'll know he's ready. By then we'll know he'll be safe from the Dark Lord."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed dreadfully, as if she was trying to consider this before she looked up to him again. "Draco?"

"I can handle it, mother. Don't worry." Draco assured her before taking her hand and squeezing it into his. "I'll be alright. I promise."

His mother nodded gravely before moving away and standing just a little off to the side. Bellatrix finally moved in front of him, her bendy wand at the ready as she pointed it at his forehead. There was a pregnant silence for what felt like hours as he emptied and rid his mind of any thoughts or feelings. Then, he heard the strong incantation.

" _Legilimens!_ " Bellatrix screeched.

The familiar sharp pain hit him from his head down to the tips of his toes and he instinctively closed his eyes. There was nothing but black, silky void in his view. Like the many practices that he was close to succeeding, he floated through the space of the darkness. His entire body was now relaxed and the pain subsided far faster than it did in the past. He weaved through the dark, empty vast – his whole being in limbo, concentrating on keeping it that way.

Suddenly, there was a loud banging. At first, he thought it might be coming from the room where he was settled in with his aunt and mother – probably housekeeping to check on them. But then he realized it was around the warp of his barren space. The banging went on for several minutes, as if whoever was doing the sound was asking for entrance. He shut off the noise calmly, focusing on the desolate blackness, his mind at peace despite the racket that seemed to increase by the minute.

Draco was confident of his skill now, blocking out anything that could possibly distract him. However, in his arrogant tranquility, came his mind drifting into a color just dotted in the silky void. He thought he might distract himself by staring at the attractive color, to block out the banging that went on and on for what seemed like hours now. And then, all at once, the tiny color that he'd been focusing on grew and he was immediately sucked into a world full of light.

The scene shifted before him. Now, he was high on top of the world, riding his broom with the grace he did when he wasn't using it for Quidditch. But instead of holding onto his broom's handle, he was holding onto someone seated in front of him – her black as night hair whipping shamelessly against his face. Draco pushed the strands of hair away from him menacingly before he realized that the girl sitting before him was Astoria. Almost at the mention of her name in his head, she turned around and smiled at him.

 _"Hey, look at that! You're actually smiling!" Astoria jabbed at him with a slight giggle, her green eyes boring into his grey ones pleasantly. "You should really smile more! It's certainly more attractive than your pompous smirk!"_

 _"You think I'm attractive?" Draco heard himself tease her as he drew closer, the cold winter air rushing past him a bit faster now. "Little Greengrass, I'd never thought I'd see the day."_

 _"I said your smile, Malfoy, not you in general." Astoria rolled her eyes at him as she threw her head back in laughter, her sweet-smelling head now splayed against his chest. "I wouldn't be attracted to your arrogance if it saved me from dragon pox!"_

 _Draco found himself laughing at this and inevitably inhaling the witch's sweet scent of vanilla and roses; and he is briefly reminded of their little Amortentia incident only a few days ago. It was the same incident that granted him this "date" with Astoria, even if she claims that it isn't one. It definitely was, no matter how other people put it. Her eyes sparkled with merit as she looked up at him, her head still resting against his chest. It took all of his self-control not to lean down and feel her lips against his, the way they probably should have had Slughorn not interrupted them days ago._

Then, all at once, an excruciatingly painful shock hit his head and travelled through his entire body. The scene of Astoria laughing and staring at him with her green eyes dissolved into instant darkness, and he opened his eyes to find that his aunt was now inches before him. Her hands were fists against his black coat and the look on her eyes was pure, unadulterated menace.

"What are you doing, you foolish child?!" Bellatrix's shrill voice resounded throughout the room. "You fool! Coward! How dare you?! You were doing perfectly fine!"

"Bella, please, that's enough!" Narcissa's voice rang behind his aunt pleadingly. "He's just a boy!"

"A boy that's about to be dead if he doesn't rid his mind of this ridiculous Greengrass girl!" Bellatrix shrieked violently before pushing him away. "A repulsive school-boy crush on a girl! _Pathetic_! This is not the right time to be thinking about kissing innocent little girls, Draco!"

Draco tumbled back into his seat, but before he could actually understand what was going on in his surroundings, he heard the curt, loud cry of an unforgivable curse.

" _Crucio!_ "

Draco let out a blood-curling scream as the most unbearable pain rounded into him. He lurched forward and fell onto the unforgiving floor.

His bones felt like wrought iron as their heaviness held his entire body down. Both of his legs writhed dangerously as they twisted in odd angles, giving him terrible discomfort. His arms, on the other hand, were forced to stretch upwards as if someone was pulling them far into the back of the room like taffy. It was pure, unsurpassable horror and his body twisted and jumped from left to right, every part of him felt like he was being injected with thousands upon thousands of hot waxed knives. He could feel his throat tighten up as harsh tears welled from his eyes, blinding him from everything. Though the pain was just as deafening, he could distinctly hear his own cries and screams just as clearly as he could hear his aunt and mother have a row.

"Bella! Stop it, please! **Please, stop it!** " Narcissa's cries echoed throughout the room. "Please, make it stop! Bella, stop! _Stop, you're hurting him!_ "

Then he heard the sound of Bellatrix's roar of pain, and in an instant, the monstrous suffering that he was going through perished. Draco couldn't move an inch as his vision cleared, though hot tears continued to run down his cheeks as he breathed out heavily – trying to contain the rate of his heart hammering so painfully against his chest. There was a loud thud a few steps away, but he didn't bother himself to figure out what it had been.

His mother then came into his line of vision and she helped him get up. He cried out his misery as he was moved, every inch of his body burning like hot lead and his head pounded with a beating so strong that his head spun, hardly seeing what was going on now.

"Don't you dare touch my son, you heartless bitch!" Narcissa screeched violently above the sound of Bellatrix's groans. "How could you, Bella?! He's your nephew!"

Draco sniffed as he tried to wipe the tears from his eyes clumsily, now seeing his aunt trying to get back up from the ground; wand still at hand. A cold shiver ran down his spine, his anxiety increasing in fear. But before he could draw out his wand and attack the witch, she let out yet another cry of a curse; louder than the first.

" _CRUCIO!_ "

He braced himself for the impact, but when he felt his mother's hold leave him and heard her cries of pain – he knew it wasn't him. Draco's eyes widened as he moved towards his mother despite the pain still burning in his bones. Narcissa's body writhed in odd angles, and her harsh breaths and howls of agony nearly shook the entire room. His tears were running just as fast now and for one whole minute his entire world fell apart at the sight of his mother's mangling body.

Draco internally screamed at himself. _Do a counter-curse. Anything. Do anything! Is there even a bloody counter curse? Think, Draco, think!_

But his mind was void of any counter-curse as he watched his mother wriggle in pain.

Draco looked up to his aunt and drew out his wand, pointing it towards her as he yelled, "Cru—"

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Bellatrix bellowed, shifting her wand towards him. His fingers felt hot pain as his wand was disarmed from him – the blackthorn skidding a foot or two away from him. "You insolent boy! I told you, didn't I?! I told you to get rid of that blasted Greengrass! _CRUCIO!_ "

His aunt waved her wand back towards his mother whose body lurched forward and began to writhe once more, but her cries of pain now only receded to chokes and heavy breathing.

"Stop, please, _stop_!" Draco begged as he shook his head, holding on to his mother's shaking hand. "I'll get rid of her now! I promise. I swear on Abraxas Malfoy's grave, she'll be gone and out of my head. Just _please_ stop hurting her!"

Bellatrix glared at him dangerously but seemed to have considered this, because with a flick of her wand; he felt his mother's body stiffen. Draco looked down at Narcissa to find that she'd stopped shaking uncontrollably, but she was still breathing out rasp breaths whilst sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her and carefully laid her head on his lap.

"Mother, it's okay. It's over now." Draco tried to reassure her, though he found anything he was trying to tell her extremely hard to believe. He ran his fingers through his mother's soft, blonde hair; his other arm wrapped around her protectively.

Finally, Draco turned his gaze towards Bellatrix, his eyes burning from the aftermath of his tearful crying. "You didn't have to do that. You didn't have to hurt her. You could have just hurt me."

"Well, you're not going to learn unless somebody else gets hurt for your transgressions, hm?" Bellatrix said venomously, pointing her wand at them briefly before stashing it away. "This is my final warning, Draco. The next time we come here for practice and I see that blasted little girl interrupting your memories; I'll pull her out of Hogwarts myself, _gut_ her sweet little heart out, run my knife down her pretty face and **kill** her before she has you and your parents killed. Are we clear on this?"

Draco swallowed and a brief vision of his aunt hurting Astoria broke his heart just as much as it did having to watch his mother go through any sort of pain. He nodded this time as he looked away from his aunt, turning his attention back to his mother who had just about fallen asleep in his arms. At the sight of this, he was reminded of the nights when his mother held him close at night when he had nightmares. She still did that when he woke up one night many months ago from a Legilimens by the Dark Lord showing him his father being killed by the killing curse. Every night since then, she had protected him. And now, having experienced seeing her go through unbearable agony, he felt ashamed for not being able to do anything.

Didn't he understand from the very beginning why he even agreed to the Dark Lord's task in the first place? Other than the fact that he was right in front of him and would have been killed had he declined; it was the threat of Voldemort murdering his parents that made him say yes.

 **He would kill him and his parents if he didn't kill Albus Dumbledore.**

Was that not enough to make him determined to succeed, no matter how unforgiveable the idea might be? And yet, how could he have let himself get distracted by the very thought of Astoria Greengrass? She was nothing but a silly little infatuation compared to him and his parents' lives. How could he have let any of this happen?

Bitter guilt filled his entire being as he stared placidly at his mother, everything in him physically hurt at the memory of seeing her be tortured. Would he be able to forgive himself if she suddenly dropped dead? He shook his head gratingly. He couldn't. He couldn't bloody bear to see that happen to his father as well. He loved them. He couldn't… he couldn't… _he'd rather die._

"Crystal." Draco finally answered his aunt, though his voice was laced with venom and a new found purpose.

From now on, tomorrow and into the future – he wanted nothing to do with Astoria Greengrass.

* * *

Draco spent the rest of November focusing on nothing but himself. Despite his constant focus on fixing the Vanishing Cabinet, he doubled his efforts in studying for his upcoming hands-on potions exam with Slughorn in the hopes that he'd be freed from any more tutoring. Not that he was having any problems with that right now, really.

He hadn't gone to a single tutoring session with Astoria since his promise to his aunt.

Avoiding Astoria was probably one of the hardest things to do – not because it was hard for him to do it, but because she kept on catching up to him in the hallways or in the common room. He hadn't said a single word to her since their time at the Black Lake, and when she began to involve Daphne in the course of bugging him for weeks; he decided to use the power of Blaise and Pansy.

Draco asked Blaise mostly, since Astoria was a lot friendlier with him than Pansy. He'd asked his friend to distract Astoria as much as he possibly could and so far, Blaise was doing a pretty bang up job with it despite himself. To his surprise, Blaise and Pansy didn't question his motives – only that they seemed eager to help him. It surprised him even more at their show of loyalty, and for the first time in his life, he truly felt wanted and cared for by people other than his family.

But he let those ideas drift just as well. Draco would enjoy what little time he had with Blaise and Pansy, but not so much to the point that such daring, friendly memories would interrupt his Occlumency lessons. He didn't need another reason to be cast with the _Cruciatus_ curse by Bellatrix.

When the last week of November came, winter currently in full swing – it was now time to take his examinations in potions. As soon as he arrived at the dungeons into the potions classroom, he was a bit relieved to find a few students joining him in the examinations. Apparently, he wasn't the only one in trouble of failing this class – which was pleasant to know.

The second Professor Slughorn saw him; he began to jeer merrily. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy! So good of you to join us! Well, now that our last student is here – I believe it is time for us to begin our exams now, yes?"

Draco joined the other students, feeling wretched that he was the only Slytherin student from the N.E.W.T. group there. The two Ravenclaws eyed him curiously, but said nothing as he went to his table where his cauldron was.

"Now on your respective tables, you'll find a piece of parchment with a name of a potion that you are to brew. You are to be given an hour and a half to accomplish these potions." Professor Slughorn announced. "Your final grade will determine on whether or not you can continue taking N.E.W.T-level potions. Are we all clear on that? Yes? Alright, well, let the brewing commence!"

At this, Draco took the parchment in front of him. He could have sworn he wanted to jinx the professor when he read what he was asked to brew.

 _Amortentia_.

By Salazar, Slughorn wasn't kidding when he said he'd have him brew this blasted potion. Draco rolled his eyes at this in frustration but proceeded to take the needed ingredients in the cupboard. There wasn't a lot to it; rose thorns, ashwinder eggs, peppermint, powdered moonstone and pearl dust. With what he had before him, he started brewing the potion – playing the instructions in his head by memory. It was similar to Felix Felicis's process, but with just several different ingredients.

After what felt like hours, even though it's only been just one – he finally started to smell fresh forest air, apples, vanilla and roses. Draco casually sneered at the last two scents before covering his nose with his robes, stirring the potion with his other hand. He didn't need another reminder of Astoria, no matter how potent his potion was forcing him to let her into his mind. It wasn't exactly a challenge anymore, since he was so used to cutting people off his life. Some things were just better that way, no matter how much it hurt him.

Other students began to notice the wafting, amorous color from his cauldron. They sniffed the air, and most of their faces shifted into happy, dubious looks – as if transfixed. Draco rolled his eyes at this. At least it proved that his bloody love potion was working.

After thirty minutes, he kept his potion at bay – stirring it occasionally until their time was up. Slughorn went through each of their cauldrons, passing a few students while others received their grave news. Draco braced himself when the professor finally settled in front of his cauldron.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Slughorn greeted as he took out a white feather from his coat. "What have you brewed for me today?"

"Amortentia." Draco replied lazily and watched as Slughorn dropped the white feather into his bubbling potion.

"And what are the components and effects of this potion?" The professor asked as he waved his hand towards his face, smelling the potion with ease.

Draco scoffed at the question, but answered nonetheless. "Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence, causing a powerful infatuation or obsession from the drinker. Despite its power, Amortentia doesn't create actual love. Though, the person under the effect of the potion will only hold an obsession for the person who administered it. It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, reminding each person of the things that they find most attractive, even if the person doesn't acknowledge or is unaware of their fondness for the object of their affection themselves."

"Straight out of the textbook, yes? Thank you for that, my boy." Professor Slughorn nodded appreciatively before dropping the white feather into the potion. The feather immediately turned the color of blood, but with a tinge of fleshy pink. "Outstanding! Just absolutely brilliant! You've done well. Passed!"

"So, Professor…" Draco tried to suppress orchestrating a cocky grin at this, but couldn't help it. "Does that mean that I no longer need to be tutored by Greengrass?"

"Ah, yes. That won't be necessary anymore. As promised, and I am a man of my word." The professor nodded as he waved his wand at the cauldron. Its contents disappeared in the blink of an eye, and he couldn't blame Slughorn from wanting to get rid of the thing no matter how properly brewed it was. He too didn't want to see the raging hormones of about a dozen teenagers act up in one day. "I have heard, though, that you've been avoiding your lessons with Ms. Greengrass these past few weeks. I hope you don't mind me asking why."

 _Of course I mind, you bald-headed idiot._

Draco cleared his throat. "Like I said the first time I asked, Professor. I hardly thought it was necessary anymore. And as proven today, I've been considered right this whole time. I'd appreciate it if you didn't shove another tutor at me now that you've seen what I'm capable of."

Slughorn looked at him skeptically. "Very well, then. Continue to exceed in my classes and you'll find no tutor being given to you. Although I must say, it would be a great deal to send your apologies to Miss Greengrass. I've been told you've hardly spoken to her, and she's a kind young lady. Surely your pride won't be so wounded as to atone for your actions."

A frown creased Draco's features. If only the bloody potions master knew the internal struggle he had for the past few weeks just thinking about that alone. At this, he scoffed indignantly and took his belongings with him to leave.

He stopped midway through the room before he let his last words linger.

"Professor, you seem to forget that I'm a _Malfoy_. And we Malfoys do not apologize for _anything_."


	9. Chapter 9: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: Astoria**

 **December 1996**

The harsh, cold winds blew against her face as she made her way towards Hogsmeade with Luna. Astoria was quiet for the most part as she listened to her friend talk about the latest sighting on the Crumple Horned-Snorkack. Usually, she'd be interested in all of this odd, but formidably interesting knowledge – but she didn't have the heart to get into it. In fact, she hadn't been quite herself for a number of weeks now.

Astoria was used to being ignored. She was used to being pushed to the side for her being a _blood traitor_ **and** a Slytherin. Hardly any of her classmates that came from her house spoke to her, and other people outside Slytherin were either too scared or too judgmental about her being in the "evilest house in Hogwarts". It wasn't something she had hoped for since she started going to school here, but she had learned to become content with what she had. And what she had was her sister, oddly enough; Blaise, and Luna. And only weeks ago, she – in her own little way – had hoped that Draco would be added to that small, but meaningful list.

Oh, how wrong she was about that.

She and Draco went on with their tutoring sessions for the next week as planned after the "date" that they had down by the Black Lake. Everything seemed perfectly normal – he was still a pompous ass, he still tried to shimmy his way into writing his essays for him and he was just the same man that she's learned to somehow appreciate despite herself.

But then came the next week after that, and he looked at her like he'd rather die than to be anywhere near her. Astoria had assumed that he was just having a bad day and that they'd proceed with the usual tutoring. Yet one o'clock, two o'clock, and three o'clock into the afternoon of their scheduled sessions… he never came.

At first, she let it slide for that day – she'd question him at dinner or in the common room later on. But he never came to dinner, and she waited for what felt like an entire day in the common room and he hardly showed up. So she decided to shrug it off, hoping, really, that it might have been just a bad day for him.

Then Tuesday came, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday… He never came. It felt like being burned at the stake; like every part of her was being ripped off by piece. It occurred to her that maybe he was just having a bad week. Astoria gave him his space and resisted the urge to catch up to him in the hallways. But a week turned to weeks, and that's when she had enough. And really, as much as she respected his need to be alone – it was completely unacceptable for him to simply skip the tutoring that she'd been assigned to do.

How selfish could he be? Has it ever occurred to him that his grades aren't the only ones on the line, but hers as well? Honestly, the nerve of the man was as baffling as the first time she had a full conversation with him.

So Astoria resorted to slightly medieval methods. She tried to catch up to him in the halls, call his name over at the dinner table, and bombard him with questions whenever he enters the common room. It went on like that for days and he either, for most of the part, ignored her or told her to " _Just scamper off, you filthy blood traitor"._

And despite her discrepancy with Daphne over the horrendous letter she's sent to Luna, she was surprised to find her sister cornering Draco just as much as she did. While she never told her sister anything about Draco's odd behavior, she told Blaise – and naturally, he couldn't help but tell her sister. And just when the ridiculousness of the matter seemed to rise, Blaise told her to just drop it.

And so she did, but she never quite got over it.

Hogsmeade was always so beautiful in December. Everything was dotted in powdery snow, and carols played as people went about their Christmas shopping. It has always been Astoria's favorite holiday, with all the gifts and sweets she received from her family and what little friends she had as well as the Christmas spirit that came with it. But somehow, she had a feeling this holiday wouldn't be as festive as she or many other people had hoped.

"Astoria, have you drifted off again?" Luna asked her as they walked their way towards Honeydukes. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

"Me? Thinking about _him_?" Astoria gushed disgustedly as she pushed the door of the shop; a bell tinkled as they entered. "Luna, you're a wonderful friend – but you have _got_ to stop assuming that I would even give him any thought. I'm past the point of worrying."

"Exactly. You're past it now." Luna nodded at her as she took two baskets, handed one over to her, and went up to look at the blood-flavored lollipops. "But perhaps it's for the best. I don't particularly like him and even more now that he's done something so awful as to ignore you out of nowhere. I know you like him, Tori, but…"

"I know." Astoria shook her head at this before she ran her fingers along an aisle of Sugared Butterfly Wings and added two tins of them into her basket. "I just thought that… after the ride on him broom that he'd be a little more... open." Dreadfully naïve for her to think it, but it was how she felt. "He was good during the next week but after that he just dropped out of the face of the earth."

"I don't think it's your fault." Luna said brightly as she put an armful of Fizzing Whizzbees into her own baskets. "If anything, it's his problem. Maybe he really is going through some things that he's decided to shut off the world for a little while."

"How can he possibly shut off the world if he still talks to Blaise and Pansy?" Astoria said accusingly as she, too, took a handful of sweets – but were of Chocolate Cauldrons and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "It's so obvious, Luna. I've done something wrong and I don't particularly even remember what it might have been."

"Have you tried talking to him again? You know, since the last time that you did?" Her friend asked before finally turning around to look at her. "Surely he's said at least a single word to you."

"Oh, certainly," Astoria said sarcastically before her face fell, tears nearly welling her eyes. "He said _"Shove off, little Greengrass"_ about twenty times. Two for each time I try to corner him anywhere remotely quiet. I've let it go since then, but it still bothers me."

Luna put a hand on Astoria's shoulder and squeezed it. "Perhaps it's best to just leave Draco Malfoy in the past. After all, we must move forward with constant vigilance. There are more important things, Tori. What, with _He Who Must Not Be Named_ now officially lurking about – I think it's just wise to stir our priorities on more pressing matters. Like Christmas gifts at current, or trying to find ways to defeat the Dark Lord!"

At this, Astoria found herself giggling as she wiped the first set of tears that slid down her cheeks. "You're right! Goodness, how time flies, really. It's Christmas, for Merlin's sake."

Luna beamed at her and began leading her to the register. "I think I know what would cheer you up. Just this morning, I got a letter from my dad about trying to find your aunt's address. He told me he got a lead with someone in Ireland."

"Ireland?" Astoria nearly yelled in surprise. Merlin, she'd forgotten all about Aunt Cressida. In fact, she was surprised to find that she hadn't been on about her uncommon illness even if she did have a few fevers here and there for weeks now. How could she have distracted herself from the more important things by focusing on Draco? She felt horrible. "That's not very far. Do you think it'd be wise to visit her? As a surprise, you know. Do you think she'd still want me around?"

"Of course she does, Tori." Luna said as she started to pay for her sweets. "While I personally haven't met your aunt, from what you've been telling me I think she sounds like a very nice person. You did say she showed some great resistance in being away from you and Daphne."

"She did." Astoria pursed her lips after, though she still doubted the idea of surprising her aunt Cress out of nowhere. Heaven forbid her mother would even let her out of her sight once the holidays come around, hence not a lot of airway to get to Ireland before the next semester starts. "Oh, I just miss her so much. She's the only aunt I ever liked. All of my other aunts in dad's side of the family dotted on Daphne, but they never quite understood me."

"Well, if dad gets an address. I'll let you know at once." Luna nodded dreamily before staring at her. Her friend's silvery grey eyes lingered for a while before they seemed to brighten. "Don't worry, Tori. You needn't worry these days. It's Christmas, remember?"

Astoria nodded at this, thankful for her friend's optimism – but certainly ungrateful for her own demise of delving in too deep into things that shouldn't.

* * *

"I'm still not talking to you." said Astoria between chews of cereal as she looked through the _Daily Prophet_ , though she hardly understood a word that she read.

Breakfast in the Great Hall was, for the most part, the most peaceful part of her day. Well, for the most part – till' Daphne decided to slide right in next to her. Ever since her argument with her sister about the letter, which was an outburst of foul words and jinxes and hexes, her sister was none the wiser to avoid Astoria just as well. Though at times her sister attempted to catch up with her, Astoria simply ignored her. Daphne needed to learn her lesson. And what better lesson, really, than to simply give her sister the silent treatment. One, Astoria had discovered one too many summers ago, of the only things that would crack the pride of one Daphne Greengrass.

"Oh, come on, Tori. I said I was sorry about a billion times now!" Daphne complained beside her before shoving spoonful's of cereal into her mouth. "I really am sorry! A billion and one, there! Look, it was mum's idea. She made me write the letters. Oh, for Merlin's sake! What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness?"

"Nothing. Do _absolutely_ nothing, Daphne." Astoria said rather coldly as she lifted the _Daily Prophet_ a little higher to hide herself away from her sister. "And no, my implication doesn't have a double meaning of any sort. When I say nothing, I do mean **nothing**."

"I punched his stupid face for you, you know." said Daphne rather confidently.

At this, Astoria put down her newspaper and stared at her sister in horror. "Punched whose stupid face?"

Daphne shrugged nonchalantly. "Draco Malfoy's stupid face, that's what."

"Have you seriously gone mad this time?" Astoria asked miserably. "And why on earth would you even punch him in the first place for me?"

Daphne rolled her eyes before putting her spoon down with a loud _clank_. "Honestly, you think I'm some daft bimbo not knowing what my sister's going through? I've been hearing you cry in your dormitory for days. Well, not really hear – more like I've gotten the info from Hestia Carrow, your room mate."

Astoria stiffened at this. It's true; she had been crying. But she did it so discreetly and mostly into the middle of the night that it surprised her that Hestia even heard her ugly sobbing in the first place.

"I wanted to talk to you when I found out, but you ignored me like the plague." Daphne said desperately as her shoulders slacked. "But yeah, Blaise told me. He said that Draco's been missing your tutoring sessions and when I confronted the twitchy little ferret about it, he damn nearly said the most uncivil thing about you. Well, you know what followed. I couldn't help it. Smacked the daylights out of him, that one. There was blood _everywhere_."

"Are you sure you smacked him in the face and not murdered him?" Astoria asked alarmingly, feeling just a bit of forgiveness for Daphne at this sudden news. "When in Merlin's pants did this happen?"

"Just last night, actually." Daphne beamed proudly, and she quirked her brow up teasingly. "Though Pansy did try to keep him away from me, nasty little witch she was always wanting Malfoy to herself. But one time I shoved the purple side of a Puking Pastille up her mouth and she went straight off to the hospital wing. I had Draco completely bodyguard-less and demanded what he'd bloody done to make you cry so hard. I wouldn't tell you what he said, but my fist was right up his nose before he could say _Nox_."

Astoria stared at her sister with her mouth agape from all this new information. And she didn't quite know if she was giving off a look of complete repugnance or a look of absolute pride. Mostly, it felt a lot like the latter. Daphne had always been so lady-like, so refined and just about the perfect epitome of a pure-blood lady. The fact that her sister practically smashed Draco Malfoy's face for her made her feel a little better, despite her regret on the matter. She shouldn't even be feeling any remorse for Draco, not after what he'd done to her. Overall, it was a revelation to be marveled about.

Daphne seemed to have taken this as a sign of forgiveness and decided to lean in and whisper, "I think he's still bleeding till' now."

At that last sentence alone, Astoria laughed for the first time in weeks. Daphne winked at her before joining her laughter. Though her sister's actions regarding the letter to Luna were quite formidably unforgivable, she couldn't possible hate her for so long. She's been her best friend since she was so little, and she could hardly imagine a life without her sister's care and sense of humor. Her sister brightened her life in the darkest of days.

"You really shouldn't have done that, Daphne." Astoria tried to tell her seriously. "You could have been dreadfully expelled, and what would mum and dad thing?"

"Who cares about being expelled when you have the power to smack Malfoy's face now that he hasn't got his daddy to run his mouth off to." Daphne grinned proudly before frowning. " _Nobody_ hurts my sister. I'll have their head on a pike and shove it up the Dementors' asses for good measure."

"You're absolutely vile, Daphne Greengrass. But don't _ever_ do that again. I hate to see you get expelled" Astoria shook her head as she calmed down. Her green eyes drifted towards her sister's similar ones tenderly before she took her sister's hand in hers. "Thank you, though. And I'm sorry."

"Oh, come on." Daphne said, exasperated as she rolled her eyes playfully. "I swear, if I hear the words, _I'm sorry I ignored you for weeks and treated you like utter trash when I really should have been treating you like a queen_ come out of your mouth, I'll have _your_ head on a pike and shove it up—"

"Alright, alright!" Astoria said, giggling and holding up her hands in surrender. "I won't. But seriously, though. Don't try to punch anyone else who tries to hurt me, please? I don't want you hexing an entire batch of students into next Tuesday."

"Oh, _please_. I've seen her do it once." Blaise's voice suddenly said behind them.

Astoria turned to find Blaise standing right there with a cauldron cake in hand, Pansy Parkinson mulling right next to him.

"She could hardly hex one student, honestly." Pansy continued with a roll of her eyes as she sat next to Daphne, Blaise following suit by sitting next to Astoria.

"I was only picking fun that time." Daphne said accusingly. "Plus, you made me!"

Pansy snorted as she took two toasts from the floating tray and slathered it with some jam. "Memo to me to never let you hex one of those bloody first years, then. Guess I'll just have Millicent do that job for me."

"That's awful." Astoria remarked with a frown.

The pug-faced witch wrinkled her nose. "Dreadful, but it's certainly worth the entertainment."

"Anyway," Blaise interrupted before proceeding to shove a mouthful of sausages onto his mouth. "Draco looks like hell today."

"Whatever do you mean?" Daphne asked innocently, looking sideways unknowingly, and Astoria couldn't help but smirk at this.

"By hell, he means he looks like he had his ass served to him last night on a silver platter." Pansy frowned as she spoke. "He wouldn't tell us who did it. In fact, he hardly tells us anything these past few days. I'm getting worried he's in too deep over something, though I can't imagine it's got something to do with his father. He _hated_ him."

That wasn't exactly true, thought Astoria. She remembered Draco telling her how his father had taught him how to fly a broom. They've practically bonded over it. But perhaps things have changed since then? After all, the older one gets, the more difficult it was to tolerate any of your parents' nonsense.

"Nah, he didn't." said Blaise fleetingly with a wave of his hand, trying very hard to chomp on his sausages and speaking at the same time. "I doubt it's about his dad. You've heard him on the first day back to Hogwarts, Pans. He's still as arrogant as ever, dad in Azkaban or not."

"Yes, but that's _changed_ for the past three months now, Blaise." Pansy hissed heatedly, slamming the last bit of her toast on an empty plate. "There's something terribly wrong with him. And I'm really worried."

Astoria resisted the urge to say something about Pansy ever showing any concern for anyone other than herself. She really shouldn't be the judge of other people's relationships. All she knew about Draco and Pansy's relationship was that they went to the Yule Ball together during the Triwizard Tourtnament and something might have started from there. Everyone else seemed to think they were quite the golden couple of Slytherin. Yet, so much has changed since the news of the Dark Lord's return. She wondered whether any of that had affected them.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Daphne drawled on lazily, pushing away her unfinished bowl of cereal. "He's a Malfoy, after all. They've got to keep it together, don't they? Otherwise everyone else will think they're weak behind all that arrogant façade."

"Seriously, why are we still even talking about him? He'll be _fine_." Blaise groaned incoherently, finally swallowing the sausages he'd been devouring and was able to speak a little clearer now. "But I've got some news. And you ought to listen in too, little Greengrass."

"I'm right beside you, Blaise." Astoria graced her friend a small smile, seeing Pansy and Daphne now in deep conversation. "No need to get haughty."

"But I should get haughty, because we've got a smashing Christmas party to go to in a few weeks!" Blaise announced cheerfully. "Slughorn's got a fancy party welled up for the Slug Club and some Slug Club alumni's. Come on, if that doesn't cheer you up, Astoria; then I certainly don't know what will."

At this announcement, Daphne perked up from beside her and said wondrously. "Ooh, a Christmas party?"

"A Christmas party?" asked Astoria with a quirk of a brow. "Professor Slughorn's hardly told me anything."

"That's because he just told me last night. Surely he'll tell you later on. You've got potions with him in the afternoon, don't ye?" Blaise then rolled his eyes. "Took him long enough to extend an idea like that out. I bet he's trying to match it up with _Saint Potter's_ schedule. We've had so many dinners without him and the old potions master is just never content without that bloody Potter being the cherry on top in his little club."

"Oh. Well, then, when is it?" Astoria said as she pushed her bowl of cereal away.

"December 20, I think." Blaise pursed his lips in thought before grinning maniacally. "Oh, and you've got to bring a date, he said."

"Is that necessary?" Astoria asked, completely aghast. She could hear Pansy cackling loudly beside Daphne.

"Well, of course it's necessary!" Daphne barged in as she slammed her fist on the table. "And damn it, we're going to find you a date, Tori. A lady, especially a pure-blood lady, shan't attend a grand event without a man in her arms."

"I think I'm perfectly capable of attending a Christmas party without a man." Astoria told her sister haughtily. "Besides, it's completely ridiculous. I wouldn't go if it required me to bring a date."

"Oh, please, stop your whining, little Greengrass." Pansy scoffed considerably, though her chortles were relentless. "Just go to the bloody party and find some nice little Hufflepuff to go with. I heard they're _totally_ into little blood traitors like you; why, you'll certainly favor the minority."

Astoria grimaced at this. Hufflepuffs weren't that terrible. In fact, she deems them rather friendly – though it saddens her she hadn't quite found her niche with them yet.

"Come off it, Pansy." Daphne sent the pug-faced witch a menacing look. "Astoria deserves _more_ than just some boring little Hufflepuff. She should _at least_ go with a Ravenclaw. They're perfectly smart arm candies."

"And what about me?" asked Blaise as he quirked a brow at Daphne suggestively. "Aren't I a perfectly smart arm candy?"

"When Filch learns how to use magic." Pansy cackled maniacally.

" _No_. You're complete brawn and very little brains, Zabini." Daphne teased before she stuck her tongue out.

Blaise gasped dramatically at this. "Excuse you, big Greengrass. I happen to be taking N.E.W.T-level potions, something you didn't pass since the O.W.L.S. Honestly, woman, you break my heart."

"It's what I do best." Daphne simpered playfully.

"Then come to the party with me." Blaise braved as he puffed his chest out a bit. "No doubt you'll be the prettiest of them all. Not that you aren't pretty enough in your own way. You're bloody smashing."

Astoria couldn't help but grin at this and she heard Pansy gag from beside Daphne. She turned to her sister, who looked as if she just saw the Bloody Baron strip naked before them. The look on the blonde's face was absolutely priceless.

"Me? Go to Slughorn's Christmas party with you?" Daphne asked dubiously, seemingly trying to process what had just happened before her face contorted into a sneer. "Absolutely not, Zabini!"

Blaise's face fell at this just as Daphne stood up and tried to weave her way off her seat. "What do you mean, _absolutely not_?"

"It means no, nay, _never_." Pansy rolled her eyes, though her lips were curled into a snide grin. "Get with the program, Blaise. Honestly."

The black wizard then stood up from his seat as well. "But why not, Daph? Come on! I've been trying to ask you out for weeks now, and you keep turning me down."

"Because I _have_ to, you git!" said Daphne insistently as she started to walk backwards slowly. "You _know_ I can't. I've told you a thousand times! My parents—"

"—won't even know!" Blaise cut her off as he, too, began to walk but towards the blonde. "Daph, come on!"

" _No_!" Daphne shrieked before running up to the entrance of the Great Hall.

Blaise ran after her, screaming, "Just say yes, Daphne Greengrass!"

A few students looked up from their meals out of curiosity, but eventually went back to their own businesses. Astoria, on the other hand, did just that as well as she sniggered in thought of the scenario. No matter how much her parents didn't want Daphne to associate with Blaise, it always gave her joy to see them acting like absolute fools together. It was damningly adorable and strangely romantic. Once upon a time she might have had that.

"Don't bother asking Malfoy out to that bloody Christmas party, little Greengrass."

Astoria turned to her side to find Pansy glaring at her. She instinctively glared right back, though she felt it wasn't quite threatening enough. After all, her glare was as threatening as a Pygmy puff's squeak.

With Daphne around, Pansy was just a _tad bit_ civil with her. But without her, Pansy… Well, Pansy was Pansy. She was mean-spirited and just downright every epitome of a natural born mean girl. She pranced through the halls like a queen and acted like she held the world at the palm of her hand. Honestly, Astoria never quite understood why Daphne would even be friends with her.

"And what makes you think I'll even attempt to do that?" asked Astoria as she picked up her _Daily Prophet_ again, pretending not to care.

"I've seen you two together at the Blake Lake, and I know damn well you've been tutoring him." Pansy answered crassly as she pushed the _Daily Prophet_ against the table, the pug-faced witch now in full view. "Don't even think for a second that he'll say yes. He's asked me and Blaise specifically to get him as far away from you as possible, so don't get any ideas."

Astoria swallowed. Not that she was surprised he'd ask his friends to do this, but the degree of the situation alone made her feel weak. He had to _ask his friends to get rid of her_? She was starting to feel like she'd done something wrong and yet again she couldn't possibly remember what in Merlin's pants it was.

"If that's the case, then I assume you're well aware he no longer speaks with me. It's been a given situation for the lot of November now, really." Astoria said a little strongly now. "So, honestly, you've got _nothing_ to worry about."

Pansy crumpled up the _Daily Prophet_ into a ball with her hand before drawing dangerously close towards her. Her breath fanned Astoria's face menacingly. "You stay away from Draco, you hear? If I catch you ogling him, I'll hex your pretty little face into next Tuesday. _I don't care_ if you're Daphne's sister or if you're just as pure-blooded as I am. You're nothing but a filthy, disgraceful _blood traitor_. Don't even think for a _second_ that he's interested in you. Draco Malfoy is _mine._ "

"Draco Malfoy is his own person, and he certainly doesn't belong to _anyone_ but **himself**." Astoria hissed defensively; her eyes narrowing as she stood. "People aren't things for you to own, Pansy."

"He's been mine before you were even _born_ , _Greengrass_!" Pansy stood up suddenly, her voice rising. Several people in the Slytherin table looked up at them.

"Really?" Astoria asked patiently as she crossed her arms on her chest. "That's a very interesting accusation, Pansy."

"It's _not_ an accusation!" Pansy's shrieked furiously, her brows knitting together in frustration. But when Astoria didn't reply, the pug-faced witch's anger dissipated to smug arrogance. "I don't even know why I'm arguing with a puny little fourth year. It's bad form."

"I'm surprised your mind still works on that." Astoria smiled coldly. "Anything else?"

Pansy returned the smile before collecting her things. As she did this, she spoke, "Draco Malfoy and I are engaged to marry after Hogwarts; whether the Dark Lord prevails or not."

Astoria's smile faded almost immediately, her eyes widening appallingly.

When Pansy saw the look in her eyes, she smirked at her self-righteously. "Just something to think about, little Greengrass _._ "

And then she was gone.


	10. Chapter 10: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: Draco**

 **December 1996**

Draco came back to the Slytherin dungeons in the dead of the night. And by that, it meant about three in the morning. He'd been in the Room of Requirement for quite literally five hours now. It terrified him how very little sleep he had these past few days, but it was better that than sleep, for that's when the nightmares come.

He was quite used to having nightmares as a child. Though mostly out of the fact that his parents fought a lot at one point and have considered divorce. It was the excruciating foreshadow of losing his parents – and right now, he wasn't quite far from his younger self. Because at this point, it was just the same scenario though only this time, his and his parents' lives were hanging by a thread.

As much as he's close to giving up on the vanishing cabinet, he pursued fixing it mostly in the hope that by the time his aunt and the other Death Eaters came through, they'd get tired of waiting for him to kill Dumbledore that one of them – though probably his aunt Bellatrix – was bound to do it themselves. Even though that wasn't exactly the purpose of what the Vanishing Cabinet was for, he felt that it was a short way of luck for him.

It was a coward's way out, truthfully. Months ago, he _never_ would have considered it until he realized the fatality of his and his parents' lives. He was not an assassin; he knew that in himself now. He could hurt anyone as easily as Aunt Bellatrix could flick a Crucio, but to take someone's life… that was something he could never shake off him.

And yet, he had to be. He had to otherwise he'll die. He had to otherwise his parents' lives will be payment for his transgressions. He had resorted thoughts in ways on how he would do it, but every time it all just felt like all bark and no bite. It was remarkably frustrating and it was driving him mad.

It was funny how not too long ago, again, he would have been proud of this particular glory. He would have been proud to be chosen for such a pressing job. If he succeeded, he'd earn his family's honor and glory back. Now, he simply **dreaded** ever feeling that sort of pride—becoming a Death Eater, being chosen—as if to feel it would singe the very fabric of his being.

The second Draco came into the common room, he immediately saw Blaise sitting before the fireplace lit with emerald flames; its fire dancing around violently in the dark of the room.

At the sound of his footsteps, Blaise looked up to him and rose from where he sat as he said, "Late out at night again, huh, Draco?"

"What are you even doing awake at this time of night?" asked Draco as he stripped off his robes. "You best head off, Blaise – or I'll have to resort to taking points out of our own house, and we both don't want that now, really."

"It's ironic coming from a Prefect himself who should be in bed just as well." Blaise digressed, crossing his arms on his chest. "Where have you been, mate?"

"Oh, thank Merlin. I was starting to wonder when you'll _ever_ ask that bloody question again." He said sarcastically as he placed his robes on his left shoulder roughly. "When are you ever going to stop asking me that despite your knowledge of my never answering it in any verse of the world?"

The dark wizard shook his head disappointedly. "Is it because you're a Death Eater now, mate? If it is—"

"So what if it is?" He snarled as he cast his friend a menacing glare.

"I'm just concerned. I really am. You're not yourself, and that's literally saying something." Blaise pointed out tiredly. "I thought you were joking on the train to Hogwarts when you said that you were a Death Eater. I thought maybe you just wanted to show off in front of Pansy…"

There was a pregnant silence between them as Draco nearly didn't know what to say. Blaise, of all people, never took him seriously. Though mostly it was all friendly fun, but the fact that he thought he'd been joking by then about his position in the Dark Lord's army pained him in a way he hadn't fully expected. What the bloody hell was happening to him?

"I'm going to bed." Draco said finally as he started to make his way for the stairs towards the boys dormitory. "I don't have time for this."

"Wait, so it's true then?" Blaise called after him. Draco turned around impatiently at this.

"I've told you what I know and am. If that's not enough for you, then tough bloody luck, _mate_." He told him off icily now, his patience wearing very thin as he reached for the pockets of his robes instinctively before turning his back on his friend. "Goodnight, Blaise."

"Draco, just—"

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " came Draco's loud cry of a curse as he directed it swiftly towards Blaise. But to his utmost surprise, the other wizard repelled it wordlessly.

"Really?" Blaise taunted him but began to move back as far away as he possibly could with his wand on hand. "You seem to favor that curse a lot."

The bloody git. " _Confringo!_ "

Blaise deflected the curse with a wave of his wand yet again before hiding behind one of the emerald sofas. "You really are mad, aren't you? Though I really am surprised you haven't learned nonverbal spells yet. I would think that you of all people would find that kind of magic useful."

Draco followed him around the common room dauntingly as he threw another curse, " _Expulso!_ "

At this, Blaise nearly got caught in the crossfire as he quickly moved out of the way – the emerald sofa he had been hiding behind exploding in a burst of blue light. They went on like this for what felt like hours, him throwing one curse after another at Blaise – who so easily deflected it with a swish of his wand – while destroying several things in the common room.

At the point of his great frustration, when Draco was about to cast the _Cruciatus_ curse, he heard the sound of a spell whizzing towards him. He felt himself get thrown into the air and hit his back against the stone-cold wall – his wand disarmed from him wordlessly as he felt the rush of pain course through him. His entire body fell limply onto the dark marble floors, the sound of his wand rolling away from him the only thing he heard apart from his groans.

Footsteps came running down from both stairs that wound upwards next to him. There were several murmurs and gasps of surprise from the students that just got out of bed. Draco didn't even bother to look up only because he was too dazed to even recognize his surroundings at the moment.

"Oy, bugger off, you tiny lot! And not a word to Snape about this or _else._ " He heard Blaise bark at them. "Ay, come on now. Haven't your mummies and daddies ever told you that You-Know-Who lurks best at three in the morning?"

A few of them let out cries of terror as he heard some of them run back up the stairs. Others muttered rubbish and codswallop on what Blaise had said, but decided to follow the rest of the others back into their dormitories.

For some time within that minute, Draco's vision cleared a little and he saw Blaise standing right before him; offering his hand. He reluctantly took it just as he heard someone come down the stairs again.

"What happened here?" Astoria's soft voice echoed throughout the disassembled common room.

Draco risked a sideway glance towards the one girl he'd been trying to avoid for weeks now, and when he saw her look at him – he felt a strange tug of guilt at the pit of his stomach. It hurt him even more that she barely gave him a five second glance before turning over to look at Blaise.

"What's happened?" She asked again as she tried to, no doubt, cover her thin peach top by crossing her arms on her chest.

"It's not something for you to worry about, Tori." Blaise confirmed calmly as he sat Draco onto his feet. "Off you go, then. Everything's fine down here."

"That's an awful lie, Zabini." Astoria contended firmly, and Draco tried to look anywhere but at the green-eyed witch. "Alright. Well, you take care then, I suppose…"

And with a whip of her long, black hair, she was heading up towards the girl's dormitories.

Draco let out a sigh of half-relief and half-jadedness as he took a seat on one of the less-combusted seats that he had destroyed only moments ago. Blaise handed him his wand back wordlessly before taking out his wand and casting a light _muffliato_ around them. A transparent shield appeared before him after Blaise said two more incantations; _salvio hexia_ and _protego totalum._

Then, a brief silence settled upon them. Normally, he'd find himself simply walking off out of frustration at scenarios like this. But right now, he just didn't feel like acting the pompous git he was. In fact, he was so spent from the five hour stay in the Room of Requirement and the sudden duel he'd protruded that a little bit of silence wasn't so bad to have.

Out of nowhere, he felt obliged to roll up the sleeve of his white shirt to reveal his left forearm. At the sound of this, he saw Blaise look down and widen his eyes upon seeing dark mark; its black ink dancing against his flesh ominously. Blaise finally looked up at him, his mouth slightly agape as his expression interchanged between fear and surprise – sometimes a bit of both in one.

"When?" His friend asked just as Draco pushed his sleeve down uncomfortably.

"It was in July, just days after my father was locked up in Azkaban." He answered darkly as he looked up at the ceiling briefly, resisting the tears that were threatening to show. "He came into the manor; everything was really cold – colder than any Dementor could ever make you feel. He was there with my mother and Bellatrix. He threatened to kill me and my parents if I didn't do it. If… if I didn't do what he'd asked me to do."

"Yeah?" Blaise's voice trembled. "And what was it?"

The memory of the event came back to him all of a sudden.

 _"I must ask of you a great task to fulfill, young Draco." Voldemort drawled lazily now that Narcissa and Bellatrix were out of ear shot, his red slit-like eyes boring into him harshly. "If you recall, I cannot be in complete power under certain circumstances. Under… certain liabilities. Albus Dumbledore, admittedly, is the greatest wizard known to modern man. A disgraceful thing to think, but not quite in the near future."_

 _Draco nodded as his left forearm burned with the most excruciating pain, having been freshly marked with the skull and serpent ink. He wanted to look at something else,_ anything _, but the Dark Lord's cold, unforgiving blood-red eyes. But he feared that if he did, he might be reprimanded terribly._

 _"And what task should I need to accomplish, my lord?" He found his voice in the depths of his lurking thoughts._

 _What possible mission did he need to succeed in? Surely, basic Death Eater requirements—Cruciatus curse on a Ministry official, or the Imperius curse on an Auror at Hogwarts or—_

 _Voldemort smiled icily at him. "I need you to kill Albus Dumbledore."_

 _At this, he felt his body slacken considerably – absolutely baffled by what he'd just been told._

 _"M-My lord?" Draco blurted awfully, finally dropping that cool façade that he'd been sporting throughout the whole ceremony. "S-surely there's another way? Another witch or wizard that could—"_

 _"Do you doubt me, Draco Malfoy?" Voldemort's voice raised considerably, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. "Do you doubt my trust as I have so given it to you now?"_

 _"N-no, m-m-my lord," He shivered uncontrollably. "It's just that would it not be easier if Professor Snape – considering his allegiance to you – would do the task more efficiently?"_

 _"It is within great reason why I have chosen you, child." Voldemort scolded. "What better way than to kill the greatest wizard under the unsuspecting hands of a mere boy? No one would see it coming, and neither will he."_

 _Draco kept his mouth shut at this as he felt beads of sweat roll down the side of his face._

 _"Dumbledore has set a protection spell around the castle. I cannot go anywhere near it and neither will any of my other Death Eaters. No… only a student within the perimeters or a teacher would be capable." The Dark Lord nodded calmly, though his steely voice remained. "To your question on why I would not simply just ask Snape, then you must be as foolish as your father. Have I not told you that you and your parents' lives are at stake?"_

 _This caused Draco to purse his lips, but his eyes read of utter fear and disgust._

 _"Shall I set an example then…" Voldemort pointed his wand at the double doors where his mother and aunt stood behind. "Starting with your mother?"_

Draco closed his eyes to shut off the memory. He felt hot tears brim his eyes, just now realizing that he had been crying the whole time recalled all of it. Blaise was patting him on the back in an attempt to comfort him, and for once – he was grateful, despite feeling remarkably pathetic.

Draco Malfoy never showed an inch of weakness.

But perhaps it could, if it meant his parents' lives. If it meant _his_.

"I can't tell you." He said in a rasp voice as he wiped his tears off with the back of his arm harshly. "I'm not allowed to tell what it specifically is. But… it's bad, Blaise. I'm neck-deep in it and I know I shouldn't do it, but I have to. I was proud of the opportunity for a moment, you know? But it's getting worst and I… He'll… he'll…"

"I know." Blaise nodded, understanding as he continued to pat him awkwardly. "You don't have to tell me if you're not allowed to. I just wish you hadn't kept this from me, or Pansy, really. By Salazar, Draco, I had no idea."

Draco choked at this ridiculously as he sobbed for a brief few minutes, looking down and away from his friend, ashamed of literally anything that he's done so far into the year; even more so for even showing a fraction of his weakness. He knew he should feel honored; proud, even, that he would be the one to save his father out of Azkaban. He was chosen for a reason, and that he should be grateful. But in the midst of it all, he just couldn't. It didn't feel right, and nothing ever felt right anymore.

"Don't tell Pansy." He finally said and looked up at his friend, finally gaining his bearings. "I don't want her to worry any more than she already is. She wouldn't understand. Despite herself, she's innocent. _You're_ innocent. I shouldn't have even told you in the first place."

"I'm glad you told me." Blaise encouraged warmly, though his eyes read with worry. "And I promise I won't tell her. But Draco is there _anything_ I could possibly help you with? Anything at all? I know this is literally disregarding what my mum told me about staying as far away from you as possible, but I just bloody can't. You're my best mate. I'm literally screaming that honor at the top of my lungs at everybody who says otherwise. Can you imagine the look on people's faces when I say it? They think I've gone mad. One first year even offered to send me off to St. Mungo's, the little munch."

Draco couldn't help but laugh at his friend's ridiculousness. Put it past Blaise to come up with a joke in the middle of a serious conversation. He shook his head at this. How in bloody hell did he end up being friends with this man?

"I go off to the Room of Requirement every night." He admitted this time, his eyes drying considerably as he went on. "You know, the room where we found Dumbledore's Army or whatever load of bullocks Potter calls that little group of his. It's in the seventh floor where you and Pansy found me. I'm trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet there."

"Is that part of the mission too?" asked Blaise.

"It is. It's also kind of a back-up plan in case things don't go as… well." Draco said before pursing his lips.

Blaise was quiet for a moment before he offered, "What can I do to help?"

Draco shook his head at this, his mouth opening and closing undecidedly. He didn't know if he should even involve Blaise to begin with. Crabbe and Goyle were completely clueless, but Blaise knew a hinge of the plan. He knew he was up to something, and he honestly couldn't afford to lose his friend if something slips up.

"Just… keep Astoria as far away from me as possible." As Draco said this, his mouth felt completely dry and his heart thudded raucously against his chest. "I can't… I can't afford to…"

"Did he threaten to hurt her too?" Blaise questioned in horror. "Bloody hell, that nose-less bastard's _mad_."

"No, he didn't." He answered almost immediately. "But I've been having Occlumency lessons with my aunt for the past month now and… she just keeps popping up, you know? I stopped seeing her for tutoring after my aunt… well. She was right, anyway. Any more attachment to Astoria and the Dark Lord might hurt her. I can't let that happen."

"That's why you've been avoiding us, huh?" His friend mumbled audibly. "You think the Dark Lord's gonna hurt us if you fail this mission?"

"He's unpredictable and I wouldn't be surprised if he starts using you, or Pansy, or Astoria or even Crabbe and Goyle as leverage." Draco said miserably, the weight of the condition now taking him farther down a dark hole. He looked up to his friend desperately. "You can't tell her. Astoria, I mean. You can't. I doubt she'll forgive me if she knew the reason anyway. I just can't afford to lose more people in my life."

"I get it." Blaise acknowledged as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "You owe her an explanation, though. I'm sure she'll understand if you just told her the truth. She seems like she genuinely cares about you, mate."

Draco licked his dry lips before saying, "In time, maybe."

There was another brief silence, and Draco only lately realized that the protection charm around them had gone. He drew himself off the nearly burned seat and began repairing it with his wand. Blaise soon followed after as they fixed the common room with whooshes of _reparo_ ; neither saying a word until they've finished returning the place to its natural, sleek glory.

"I asked Daphne out." Blaise said out of nowhere as he tapped his wand on a broken chair.

"You've been trying to do that for the past year now. I'm not surprised you tried again." Draco declared off-handedly, feeling grateful for the change of topic.

Blaise groaned in defeat. "No, it's different this time, you know? Slughorn's hosting this party on the 20th for his students and some alumni, and I wanted to bring her there like I would anywhere for a date. And you know what she said?"

Draco tilted his head with a slight smirk, asking him to go on.

"She said she wouldn't go out with me because of Theodore Nott." Blaise exasperated as he threw his hands in the air for good measure. " _Theodore Nott_. The bloody bastard of all people."

"What about Nott?" Draco jested in amusement.

"She said that she's dating him." Blaise cried in disbelief. "Are you seriously telling me that she's going out with _him_? Since when? I haven't heard an official announcement. It's like she popped it in out of nowhere. He's not worth the galleons he owns! I'm a much suitable suitor than him. _Nott_ , what a load of codswallop."

"Maybe they've just been engaged." He offered, though regretted it immediately when he saw Blaise's eyes light up in fury. "I mean, it's possible. Daphne's family is one of the well-respected pure-bloods in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I wouldn't be surprised if the parents start pairing us off this early. Maybe they're just preparing for the worst that's yet to come."

"Yeah, yeah, I know about the whole pairing off. _Pure-bloods got to get married to a fellow pure-blood._ You, may I remind, being one of them. And to Pansy Parkinson, no less." Blaise waved a hand dismissively. "I just don't understand it. It's like the whole world's gone mad. You're a Death—er, I mean, a _DE_ and Daphne's going out with Nott. No, _possibly_ engaged to Nott. It's completely mental."

Draco scoffed at the mention of Pansy. Somehow he always seemed to forget that he and Pansy had been engaged since before they were even born. He'd had only found out days before the Yule Ball when he owled his parents about bringing Pansy to it.

Most people would lose their minds at the mention of being engaged at literally fourteen years old. But to pure-blood families, it was a custom as well as an honor. At that time, he was proud to have been engaged to a respectable pure-blood family such as Pansy's, especially one from the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Well, that is, until the incident of her father getting chucked into a muggle jail about a year ago. The Parkinsons' image was ruined, though he never quite discussed the consequences of the engagement with his parents after that. He just didn't feel like bringing any of it up – he'd worry about that in the future.

Somehow, he didn't try to bother with it as he's cut off any relationship he might have had with her after a month into the school year. Not all pure-blood marriages were bound to spring with love. He was sure he'd have felt that at one point with Pansy, but it just seemed too innocent at that time. Too… how should he call it? Well, he didn't have time for any of that at that point in time. He was too busy riling other people up with insults and just basically running the school now that he'd become a Prefect.

"You must really like this girl, mate." Draco shook his head, snickering at his friend's frustration.

"I want her." Blaise said miserably but with a passion he'd never seen in the Italian wizard before. "All of her. I know I tend to mess with the Ravenclaw girls. I mean, they're good snogs, those Ravenclaws. But that was a year ago. Things have changed, mate. She's the only girl that I don't want to leave off in a corner. She deserves so much more than that. Sometimes I'm terrified I won't be enough. That I can't give her the life she'd want, but I'm desperate to hand it to her on a silver platter because she's a smashing queen that deserves it. You know?"

Draco swallowed, having already felt the feeling of not being enough. Well, either that or being too much. He felt that way around Astoria all the time. He didn't deserve her; sweet, cheerful and kind Astoria. She was far too much of a contradiction, far too innocent, far too much light in his dark. He didn't deserve the light, not with what he was about to do.

"You're a far better man than me in that love department, if that makes you feel any better." He told his friend with much sudden self-pity. "If anything, you deserve Daphne. I just think she just hasn't realized that she deserves a strapping bloke like you."

Blaise laughed at this, his eyes all bewildered. "These girls. They're gonna kill us, huh?"

Draco scoffed in defeat before nodding.

Somehow it terrified him how right Blaise might be.


	11. Chapter 11: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven: Astoria**

 **December 1996**

"Honestly, Daphne, this is a _tad_ bit too much." Astoria announced as she pushed the curtain to the side and stepped out to reveal herself in an awfully puffy pink dress. It was corset-lined and tight to the bone and fell into a huge puff. She looked like a non-blonde version of Marie Antoinette which was both repulsive and slightly offensive. "You can't _possibly_ have me go there in _this_? It's just a small get-together, not my wedding day, for the love of Salazar."

"Oh, alright! Merlin, you do look awful in it. Yikes. Let me find something else!" Daphne screeched as she began rummaging through what appears to be two piles of dresses she had unhinged for her to wear.

They had been in _Gladrags Wizardwear_ in Hogsmeade for what felt like hours now. Astoria hardly remembered even having lunch as they must have spent so much time in here. It was a miracle she was still alive after being trapped in one tight dress after another.

It had been two weeks since the Pansy incident. Well, she liked calling it an incident because anything remotely involving Pansy Parkinson felt as though it was disaster beyond words. When she told Daphne what Pansy said about her being engaged to Draco "before they were even born", her sister merely waved the idea off by saying, " _She's just trying to get a row out of you. No young pure-blood gets engaged before they're even born. It's uncanny and absolutely disgraceful, not to mention ridiculously desperate. I bet it was Pansy's mum's idea._ "

But even if it were true that she'd just been trying to fluster her, Astoria found it hard to believe that Draco was in any way, available to other girls. She'd seen the way the two have ruled the school when they became Prefects last year – abusing their powers like an odd couple. It occurred to her so lately that she had been involved in a sort of _flirtationship_ — as Daphne would like to call it — with Draco. She felt sick to her stomach.

He was engaged and she'd gone through the thought of actually imagining something between them.

Astoria's revulsion was interrupted by Daphne shoving an emerald dress into her arms.

"Try that one on!" Daphne squealed excitedly as jumped up and down. "Go on! Go on!"

"Alright, alright!" Astoria shook her head helplessly at her sister before entering the changing room and doing her best to get the menace of a puffed dress off.

As she undid the strings of her corset, she asked aloud, "So have you said yes to Blaise already?"

"Tori, if I said yes to him, I'd be joining you in the fruitful attempt of trying to find the perfect dress for the party now." Daphne said as a matter of fact. "No, I haven't. And will you please come off it on that?"

"Why do you push him away so much?" Astoria questioned with a sigh of a relief as her chest loosened from the corset before shoving the whole dress off her. "It's obvious he likes you, Daph. He seems quite genuine about it. I know mum and dad don't want you to go anywhere near him, but… well, a little rebellion won't hurt a bit."

"You're just saying that because you've given yourself the full liberty of snogging with Draco Malfoy." Daphne asserted from behind the curtain. "I'll have you know that mum and dad don't want you anywhere near him, and yet here you are – tutoring him so willingly like the little school girl who'd always dreamed of being remotely close to her crush."

"I'm not snogging him! And I don't see him that way anymore, I've told you that about a hundred times now." She told her sister heatedly, her cheeks flushing from the memory of her almost _actually_ snogging him had a certain professor not interrupted them.

After the memory, she tried to distract herself by taking the emerald dress and slipping it on gracefully. "Also, I'll have you know that I was blindsided by Professor Slughorn. I hadn't the faintest idea of who I was going to tutor. I don't exactly have the foresight of seeing Draco be one of such troubled students in potions. And really, we are far over from discussing that man. You promised you'd never bring him up."

"Well, I can't help it if I'm defensive." Her sister grumbled. "There's a reason mum and dad don't want me to be with Blaise, Tori."

"Oh yeah?" Astoria inquired as she adjusted the flow-y dress. She looked up to the mirror and was surprised to find that she loved it. In fact, she loved it so much that she squealed in delight and twirled around in it childishly.

"What is it?!" Daphne howled before drawing the curtain up to the side to reveal her.

Her sister's face lit up like the sun as she covered her mouth with her hand dramatically, the other on her chest. She heard a small sob escape the blonde's lips before she placed her hands on her shoulders. "You look… you look so beautiful, Tori. Oh gods, I think I'm gonna cry."

The apples of Astoria's cheeks tinged in pink at her sister's compliment. She did look quite nice in it. It was a light, emerald dress; its fabric flowed down to her knees just as easily as she moved in it. The dress alone was very simple, with small puffs on her shoulders. The lovely ribbon wrapped around her abdomen accentuated her hourglass figure quite well. In the simplicity of it all, she felt beautiful.

"I bet Draco's regretting every little terrible thing he's said or done to you." Daphne shook her head with a sly smirk on her lips. "If he sees you in that, he'll be all over you before you could say _Nox_."

Astoria couldn't help but roll her eyes at this. "Don't be ridiculous."

Daphne hummed softly as she examined the dress by poking at a few of her body parts and testing the fluidity of the fabric's flow. When she finally looked up from her inspection, Astoria was surprised to find tears rolling down her sister's cheeks.

"Daph, what's wrong?" Astoria asked her softly just as her sister scrambled off to sit on one of the lounge chairs. She followed her and sat next to her before taking the blonde's hand in hers. "Daph, it's just a dress."

Her sister sniffed at this. "I-it's not the dress I'm crying about. Well, partly. Though, not really fully. It's just that…"

Astoria's brows furrowed worriedly before she squeezed her sister's hand. "What is it? You can tell me anything, Daph."

"I didn't tell you before because I didn't know how. I thought maybe you'd just find out in Christmas when mum would announce it during the party she's set up." Daphne croaked as she looked away from her, looking rather ashamed. "It was in the… in the last week of November. You've barely spoken to me because of the letter and I wanted to tell you so bad but you were so mad."

Her stomach dropped in sheer guilt of this. "Daph, I'm so sorry. I know it was a bit foolish to ignore you because of such a—"

"No, no, you don't have to apologize for anything. Don't you _ever_ apologize for feeling, Tori." The blonde shook her head frightfully. "Well, anyway… the reason why I couldn't say yes to Blaise even when… when I really wanted to. You know I do, right?"

Astoria nodded eagerly as she beckoned for her sister to go on.

"I'm bloody mad about him." Daphne sighed wistfully, just as Astoria produced a hanky from her nearby robes and began to dab it at her sister's wet cheeks. "Mum sent me an owl that they… our families, that is… are going to announce my engagement to Theodore Nott next year."

This was more than a shock to Astoria. Not only was it a shock, but it was an absolute outrage. The only reason the Greengrass stood out among the Sacred Twenty-Eight was because their father refused to have his two daughters married off unwillingly to other pure-bloods. They can marry whoever they wished as long as it was a pure-blood or at least a half-blood. It was one of the only things that made life more comfortable in the manor – no forced marriages unlike the other dynasty-crazed pure-blood families.

Astoria wasn't sure whether to believe this or not, but if it frightened her sister so much to the point of drawing tears – then it must be. At this instant, she pulled her sister towards her in a tight hug; causing Daphne to now bawl her eyes out. A couple of bystanders in the shop stared at them oddly, but they passed off awkwardly.

"How could she?" Astoria whispered horrifically as she pulled away from her sister gently. "How could she do this? Doesn't she know? Dad's told her a _thousand_ times that she's not allowed to do that. She _can't_."

"Oh, Tori, that's the problem." Daphne sobbed breathlessly as she dabbed at her eyes timidly. "It was dad who set up the engagement with Amelia Nott, Theo's aunt. Mum just sent off the news to me herself. If it makes you feel any better, she wasn't quite happy about it."

Astoria shook her head in denial, her eyes now as wide as saucers. _No_. He couldn't have.

"But why?" She asked hoarsely, now feeling fresh tears brim her own eyes. "Daddy would never. Daph, _he would never_. He loves us too much to do such a—"

The blonde choked considerably as she rubbed her now red nose. "I think it's got something to do with the Dark Lord returning. I don't know. But mum said that other pure-blood families are running out of pairing their sons and daughters off before a war breaks. I think they're making sure that whatever the result of the war; they would still have heirs to their family names. It's… it's probably only a matter of time before daddy finds you your own fiancé, Tori."

" _No_." Astoria hissed firmly as she squeezed her sister's hands a little tighter. "I won't have it. _We_ won't have it. We can talk dad out of this. I'm not having you engaged to a man you don't love, Daph. Especially not to Theodore Nott, of all people. By Salazar… is that why you've been hanging around with him all this month?"

Daphne bobbed her head heavily before meeting her gaze. "Please don't tell Blaise. I can't bear it if he found out."

"Well, he's going to find out at one point, Daphne. His family might not be in the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but he's just as much in it as any other pure-blood." Astoria said miserably.

"There's a storm coming, Tori." Daphne sniffed as she looked out the window. "A war. Things are changing out there. It's just like the last time… but I fear it'd be just as worst or even more than the first."

Astoria wasn't sure if her sister was talking about what supposedly could be another war. Though she had a feeling she was as she looked out the window, the harsh cold winds of the December winter whirling about. Her sister was right. Things _are_ changing, and they terrified her even more as the days went on.

* * *

The night was young when Astoria made her way for the sixth floor to where Professor Slughorn's Christmas party was being held in his enormous office. Her emerald dress, probably the best dress she's ever been given the liberty to wear, shimmered in the light of the moon beautifully. Her long black hair was tied up in an elegant bun adorned with jewels and gems of many sorts, a rare work done by her sister Daphne. To compliment her up-do, Daphne had leant her some emerald tear-drop earrings and necklace.

Being all dressed up tonight made her feel confident; it made her feel beautiful, which was an occurrence she hardly felt whilst being overshadowed by her elder sister.

As soon as she arrived at the sixth floor, she saw her date standing there, waiting for her. Well, her date not so much as her friend, really.

Blaise Zabini was spruced up in emerald robes to compliment her dress as they had discussed just yesterday. In the space of saving her sister the devastation of having to see Blaise with another girl and her going to the party alone, she and Blaise decided to go as friends. It truly surprised her how Blaise was extremely reluctant in bringing another girl. He must really care about Daphne enough to either go to the party with her or not at all.

"Wow, Tori." Blaise chuckled as he offered his arm and she took it gratefully. "If Draco could see you now."

"Well, he's not here now, is he?" Astoria asked him gently, gracing him a soft smile as she adjusted her little emerald necklace. "Shall we?"

At this, she and Blaise made their way up to the office, her high heels clacking loudly against the stone pavement. The sound of cheery voices and music grew louder as they entered the opulent room that was Professor Slughorn's office.

It looked as if they were inside a huge tent, with silver and emerald droppings distinctively high up the ceilings. The sound of ornate music drifted in an upbeat tune throughout the entire room. Servers in white robes and gloves moved through the crowd with trays of miniscule food in hand; a number of house-elves instantly refilling the buffet and trays with their own elf magic.

Everything seemed to be in full swing as they weaved their way through the crowd. Within it were Slug Club alumnus and their guests. And pointedly, she recognized Hermione Granger in the crowd with a blonde boy whose name she knew not of. Then she saw the Carrow twins, Ginny Weasley and Dean Thomas. And expectedly, there was Harry Potter with her friend, Luna Lovegood.

The whole room felt rather stuffy but nonetheless cheerful. When they finally found Professor Slughorn, Astoria was rather impressed with the old man's apparel. It was what Daphne would call _chic, but for older people_ – a combination of a tasseled velvet hat and crimson robes.

"Oh, Mr. Zabini! And Ms. Greengrass! Each other's guests now, are you? I certainly hoped you would have asked someone _outside_ the club." Professor Slughorn gushed as he sloshed his glass of mead distractedly. "No matter, no matter! You both look remarkably dashing. Yes, indeed. Zabini, might I introduce you to Eldred Worple. Eldred?"

At the call of his name, a man she presumed would have been Eldred walked over to them. He was a small, bespectacled man with wavy licorice hair. Eldred shook hands with Blaise and kissed the back of Astoria's hand.

Suddenly, just as Eldred spoke, she felt Professor Slughorn's large hand lay on her shoulder.

"And Ms. Greengrass, I believe you're aware of your own aunt, yes?" The professor asked her.

"My own aunt?" Astoria asked in bewilderment as she unlooped her arm from Blaise briefly and taking a glass of mead from a passing server. "Professor?"

"Now, where is that woman—" Slughorn muttered under his breath as he stood on his toes, looking about the crowd until his eyes widened. "Ah, there she is! Cressida!"

Astoria choked on her drink as she pulled the mead away from her. She looked up immediately to find the slender figure of Cressida Shafiq walking up to them in an elegant, mermaid-style blue dress. Her dark as night hair was splayed in perfect waves, moving glamorously as she walked. When her aunt's pale green eyes moved towards the sight of her, her face lit up considerably.

"Oh, sweet Merlin," Her aunt said aloud as she covered her mouth as if to hide her shock as she slowly made her way towards Astoria. "Tori, oh, sweet Merlin. Tori, is that you?"

She was just as bewildered as her as she too began to walk up to her aunt. It's only been four or five years, but it felt like a lifetime. Astoria was still remarkably finding it hard to believe that her favorite aunt was standing _right in front of her_. It was probably the best Christmas gift anyone could ever possibly give her.

Aunt Cress reached out her well-manicured hands and placed them gently against Astoria's cheeks. The blonde's eyes welled up and a small tear rolled down her lightly brushed cheeks. "Astoria, my gods, you look _so_ beautiful. Oh, for goodness' sake, beautiful doesn't even begin to cover it. I—"

But before her aunt could go on, Astoria flung herself unceremoniously onto her aunt. Tears sprung from her eyes as she began to sob a little loudly than needed, but the warmth of her aunt Cress's hold stifled some of her cries. People looked about them curiously, some seemed to smile at them but she didn't care. It was a reunion, after all.

"I've missed you." Astoria sobbed as she pulled away and saw that her aunt was crying as well. She looked down ashamed this time as she went on. "I'm so sorry, Aunt Cress. I tried to owl you. I did everything, every little possible loophole just to send you a letter but I couldn't. Mum wouldn't let me. Eventually I just gave up but… I'm… I'm _so_ sorry."

"Oh, Tori, sweetie, no," Cress cooed at her softly as she held her back at arm's length. "You do _not_ need to apologize. It's my fault, with that blasted row with your mum. I had to leave the country, dear. But I never quite gave up on sending you letters even though I knew your mum burned all of it to ashes."

"How did you get here? How did you—" Astoria found herself blubbering as she tried to wipe the tears off her eyes with her white hanky.

"Your friend, Luna, actually." Cress shook her head impressively. "I do believe she's here. She sent me a letter explaining how she had asked her father to help her find me. The girl contacted my landlord, therefore alerting me and… I was just so excited. Then I've heard from the _Daily Prophet_ that Slughorn's come back to Hogwarts and I knew the old man liked throwing one of those fancy Christmas parties of his for his select Slug Club members. _I_ was in the Slug Club in my days."

"You were?" She asked in astonishment. "You never told me!"

"I hardly thought it was relevant at that time." Her aunt waved it off as she began to wipe her tears off with a hanky. "Naturally, I got an invite as an alumnus. It was quite the perfect set-up: I go to Slughorn's party and sneak off into the night to meet you and Daphne. But by Rowena, it got better, didn't it? I knew you had the smarts to get into a prestigiously intellectual club like this, Tori. You really do fit your part of being in Ravenclaw. I'm so proud of you."

Astoria beamed as she listened to her aunt, but at the mention of being sorted into Ravenclaw; she pursed her lips and looked away awkwardly. "Oh, well… I'm not in Ravenclaw like you've been at, Aunt Cress."

"What?" Cress asked, bewildered. "You, not in Ravenclaw? But you're smarter than half the people in this room! Ay, that bloody sorting hat got you into Slytherin, huh? I should have known by the color of your dress – which is just gorgeous, by the way. But… not in Ravenclaw?"

She shook her head, now more ashamed than ever of her house. "All Greengrasses went into Slytherin, aunt Cress. I asked the hat to place me there, even though it wanted me in Ravenclaw. I didn't… I didn't want to disappoint mum and dad. I felt like I've already done that all summer before Hogwarts, with my trying to send you letters and all."

Her aunt's face fell worriedly briefly before it lit up. "Oh, sweetie. I can't imagine what that might have been like. Well, what's important is that you're here in Hogwarts – there's literally no safer place."

"I have so much to tell you, and so much to ask." Astoria went on desperately but her enthusiasm hardly dropped an octave. "How long are you staying?"

"For as long as I bloody want to. I'll be staying at Hogsmeade for the rest of your school year, and your mum can shove her blasphemous ties up her arse. I'm not leaving now that the old bastard, _You-Know-Who_ 's back; not while my nieces are here, at least." Cress explained rather strongly before grinning. "Now, loads to tell. Who's your date?"

Somehow, she had completely forgotten about the fact that she actually went here with Blaise. Astoria introduced him to her friend, but pressed that Blaise was Daphne's to keep. Then when Blaise was out of earshot, she went on a barrage about her father perpetuating an arranged marriage between Daphne and Theodore Nott. Her aunt, apparently, was far more outraged than her.

They've spent the majority of the party catching up over glasses upon glasses of mead. But as soon as they had gotten down to the more sensitive topics, aunt Cress leveled the drinks up to shots of Firewhiskey. It was a cheap drink that could destabilize her in a snap, but in the event of finally seeing her aunt again; she went with the flow. After three shots, she just about lost it. Her head started to spin.

Just when she and her aunt were in the middle of discussing her aunt's new beau and that she was already on her thirteenth shot of Firewhiskey, she looked up to find Argus Filch dragging Draco Malfoy into the room.

Astoria blinked at least five times to confirm her heady suspicion. The music stopped and everyone looked towards them inquisitively. She blinked again, and only when Filch started to talk did she begin to believe what she was saying.

"Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, his eyes bulging considerably. "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"

Draco pulled himself free from Filch's grip furiously. "All right, I wasn't invited! I was trying to gatecrash, happy?"

Astoria stared at him distractedly as Filch spoke. He looked even paler than he normally was; his skin almost a grayish-tinge. There were also dark shadows under his solemn grey eyes. Maybe it was just her haziness that he didn't look quite himself, but she doubted it.

When was the last time she saw Draco? The last time she truly looked him from head to toe? She might have one too many nights ago when she found the common room nearly in ashes with just Blaise and Draco standing there, but she didn't risk it. After all, _he_ was the one that pushed her away. She was only ever just obliging to what he wanted. She stopped talking about him and relinquished herself from thinking about him.

Now, here he bloody was; in all his Malfoy glory. She'd be a fool to deny it when she felt her heart begin to drum harshly against his chest. Bloody hell, he looked terrible – almost too ill-looking even. But he was still the most attractive man she'd ever lay eyes on. And those lips… by Salazar, how close she was to kissing those lips of his. Then she suddenly remembered the intoxicating smell of vanilla and tart apples. At this, she licked her lips absent-mindedly.

"Hey," She heard Blaise whisper behind her.

Astoria nearly jumped but resisted the urge, for she didn't want everyone's attention to waver from Draco to her. She turned around and glared at him before she slurred out, "Vhat do yew want, Zabinikiles?"

"Zabiniki—what?" Blaise raised a brow at her in confusion before his lips contorted into a wide grin. "My, my, little Greengrass. I'd never thought I'd see the day. You're bloody drunk."

"Shuv off, you—" Astoria pointed at him wheezily as her head spun. "I'm listening to a very important conversation! How dare you interrupt—"

"You mean the conversation that just left?" He asked as he pointed towards the entrance of Slughorn's office. "They've gone."

"Gone?!" She shrieked aloud as she whirled to find Snape taking Draco out of the room. At this, she frowned. "I wonder what they're up to."

"You wouldn't want to know." Blaise shook his head as he looped his arm around hers. "Let's get back to the dormitories now, yeah? You're _extremely_ smashed, little Greengrass. And your aunt… well, just as considerably smashed."

"Ey?" Astoria asked dubiously, and when her friend jutted his chin to their left – she was surprised to find her aunt snogging a random man. He looked to be about her aunt's age, but she's never seen him before in her life. "Oy, you! That's my aunt you git—"

"Ay, off we go now, yeah?" said Blaise as he pulled Astoria out just in time to when she was about to march over to where her aunt's lips were being manhandled by a stranger. Astoria struggled against him, but due to her so little figure and compared to his strong build – he had dragged her off as far away from her aunt as possible with very little effort.

"Blaise, ger orf me!" Astoria howled as she tried to wriggle her way out of Blaise's hold. "My aunt – I harv to—let go, you!"

"You can't even form complete sentences." Her friend chuckled lowly as they pushed their way out of the crowd. When they've gone out of the crowded office, Blaise put her down. He lowered himself to meet her eyes. "You alright there?"

"Shorver off, Zabines!" She squealed before she started running off towards what she'd hoped would be the direction where Draco and Snape went.

"Oy, come back here, little Greengrass!"

Astoria heard Blaise's calls after her, but with her nimble little feet – she ran as fast as she possibly could down the dark and seemingly cold corridor. Despite Blaise being taller and assumingly faster than her, he was really terrible at catching up. Or was it just her head whoozing about, drunk and patented with sheer drunkenness? She had no idea where she was off to but she knew she had one little goal in mind.

Find Draco and Snape. Find Draco. Find Draco and smack him in the face. Find Draco and yell at him for being a terrible friend, for being a pretentious git, for being just downright the most awful specimen. Find Draco and ask him to apologize. Find Draco and stare at him. Find Draco… Find Draco and help him. Find Draco and… kiss him, maybe.

 _Find Draco_.


	12. Chapter 12: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve: Draco**

 **December 1996**

Draco had been dragged out of Slughorn's party by Snape. He was then led down the narrow corridor down to the last classroom at the very end. Tonight had been one of those nights where he decided to put a bit more effort into fixing the Vanishing Cabinet, just right before the holidays. While he had given much thought about staying at Hogwarts for Christmas to maintain his focus on fixing the cabinet, he didn't exactly have the heart to leave his mother at the manor all alone for the holidays. It just seemed too cruel despite himself.

Right down to when he decided he was far too tired to get anything remotely done out of the broken cabinet, he sneaked out of the Room of Requirement wearily. He knew he shouldn't have gone off into it alone at this time, especially before everyone went off for the holidays. Usually he had Blaise around now that he's decided to leave Crabbe and Goyle out of it momentarily, but he had to attend the Slughorn's Christmas party and with Astoria, no less. But he felt restless, as he's quite often been since the start of the year. And much to his dismay, his restlessness coupled with his arrogance caught him on a tight rope with Filch.

An argument broke off between him and Snape. His head of house reprimanded him of his recklessness with the incident of Katie Bell being cursed. While he was clearly suspected of it and he knew deep down he had done it, he denied it aimlessly despite the guilt that ate him. The man even tried to attempt to penetrate his mind, but he smirked valiantly at this. He had mastered that now that he had gotten Astoria out of the way – and for once he was thankful for his strength on the matter.

Snape hissed at him lowly, "I am trying to help you. I swore to your mother that I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco—"

"Looks like you'll have to break it, then, because I don't need your protection!" Draco sneered at him. "It's my job. He gave it to me, and I'm doing it. I've got a plan and it's going to work, it's just taking a bit longer than I thought it would!"

"What is your plan?"

"It's none of your business!"

His professor raised a brow. "If you tell me what you are trying to do, I can assist you—"

Draco shoved him off infuriatingly. "I've got all the assistance I need, thanks. I'm not alone!"

They went on this banter for a few minutes, Draco's irritation increasing ten-fold. It was like being reprimanded by his governess for when he was home-schooled as a child. A repetition of things he already knows, and he rolled his eyes every once in a while at the psychological method that Snape was trying to pull.

But when Snape tried to make mention of his father's imprisonment, he resisted the urge not to cast the _Cruciatus_ curse on him. With a troubled frown, he strode off towards the door of the classroom and swung it open harshly – his hard footsteps striding their way down back the corridor towards Slughorn's office. There was a loud cheer from when he passed and ignoring this, walked off into a new corridor – away from Snape and away from everything else.

As if he needed constant reminding of his father being in Azkaban. As if he needed being told that his recklessness would not merit anything well off due to his emotions. As if he needed any of that bloody talk at all. He was sixteen, by Salazar. He much preferred it if anyone older than him didn't always have to tell him what to bloody do.

His angry thoughts were then interrupted by a small figure bumping right into him.

 _Oh, for Merlin's sake_. Draco thought to himself as he tried his best not to be too harsh on whoever just bloody barraged right at him. He blinked twice and was surprised to find that it was Astoria. She was beautifully clad in a simple, yet elegant emerald dress. Her heels made her just a foot or two taller than she normally was which made it far easier – much to his dismay – for him to look into her green eyes.

 _Oh, Merlin's soggy balls._

"Draco!" Astoria's face lit up, a cheeky grin gracing her sweet red lips. "Fancy burmpin' inte ye' here!"

Draco frowned at the sound of her slurred voice.

 _Just ignore her and go off. You've been doing so well._ He thought to himself as he balled his hands into fists. _Just leave. Just bloody leave—_

"Little Greengrass—" He started, but he was interrupted by a soft finger being pressed against his lips.

"Shush!" Astoria giggled uncontrollably before her fingers trailed softly down to his chest. He ignored the familiar tug at his heart at her sweet laugh and touch. "What er you doin' at this time of der night, Draco?"

"I should ask you the same question." Draco told her a little coldly, and he was surprised to find that she giggled at that then hiccupped. Realization dawned on him as he examined her just a bit. Her pinned up hair – which he assumed used to have been in an elegant bun – now had hairs sticking out in certain areas. The apples of her cheeks were severely flushed, well, in fact, most of her skin was, actually. And her muddled words… "Astoria, are you drunk?"

Astoria howled in delight at this as she spun around in her dress, nearly tripping at her own carelessness had he not gotten a hold of her from falling off. Every part of him screamed that he should just leave her there. He didn't need this. He can't have this. He was doing so well already, getting rid of the memory of Astoria Greengrass off his mind. And yet, the cruelty of fate and destiny seemed to disagree with his current life choices. Bloody bitches, fate and destiny were.

"Oooh!" A nasally high-pitched voice cooed from above them.

Draco cursed under his breath as he looked up to find Peeves the Poltergeist, bouncing about against one wall after the other – a maniacal smile gracing his puckered lips.

"Draky and Tori sittin' in a tree—" Peeves sang rather off-key as he cackled aimlessly and floated about playfully. "K-I-S-S-I—"

"Oh, look, _clown_!" Astoria giggled childishly when Draco finally had a firm hold on her shoulders, and smacking himself mentally when he met her green eyes. "Draco, _look_! **CLOWN**!"

"—first comes marriage then comes kids—" Peeves went on aimlessly, cackling so loudly that it resounded down the corridors.

"Scramble off, you filthy poltergeist!" Draco hissed at Peeves as he continued to tighten his hold on Astoria, finally pulling her up to his chest so tight that she could hardly move. "Scram or I'll call the Bloody Baron, you hear?"

"Ay, not very friendly, _Malfie-poo_!" Peeves laughed before continuing his ridiculous song.

Draco decided he'd deal with Peeves later. He'd probably be gone long before they reached the dungeons for the Slytherin common room. After all, Peeves had always been terrified of the Bloody Baron.

"Where's Zabini?" Draco looked down at Astoria as he pushed her and held her at arm's length. "Astoria, where's your bloody date?"

"Ooh, Blaise?" Astoria asked wondrously, a sweet smile gracing her lips. "I left him somewhere ovah der! I didn't like him. He wanted to take me bark to the cocoon room but I didn't wanna! I wanted to look for ye'."

Draco shook his head at this. He made a mental note of smacking Zabini in the head later for leaving Astoria off on her own, and in the middle of the night, no less. Had it been any other person that Astoria went with, he'd have probably killed.

There was utmost surprise when he found out that Blaise was taking Astoria to Slughorn's Christmas party, with very little luck on asking Astoria's older sister, Daphne. Not that he should mind, though he did feel a slight pang of jealousy when he heard of it. Had he not ignored her, would the green-eyed witch before him ask him to come? He shoved the possibility off heatedly. There were more important things.

"Well, we should really take you back there, then." Draco told her simply as he strode them towards the stairs leading down, one of his hands holding onto her arm firmly. Peeves, much to his dismay, followed; as the poltergeist continued his taunting song – now about him and Astoria have five thousand kids. "It's late, and I don't trust you lurking the corridors while drunk. You could have bumped into anyone, for Merlin's sake, little Greengrass."

"But I don't wanna! Oh, please, Draky-poo. It's such a pretty bight – er, _night_!" Astoria started to complain, though she made no notion to wriggle free of him. "We should go for a walky or a talky! Or... or how about—"

"No." said Draco a little harshly this time, but he carefully guided Astoria down the steps. It must have taken them at least ten minutes to get to fifth floor. Another ten minutes to get to the fourth when Peeves decided to get in the way. They went on like this for what felt like half an hour or even more, and Astoria went on and on about this story on her aunt loudly, countering with Peeves' loud singing. Some of the portraits frowned and told them to shove off as they went down stairs noisily, despite his many attempts to shush the girl up in her tirade of stories that made little to no sense and Peeves with his incessant cackling.

"—and then, she was _snogging_ some random guy!" Astoria yowled now that they've gotten down to the dungeons. Then, he felt her loop her arm around his shoulder for better support. "Draco, my head hurts."

"Peeves!" came the harsh voice of the Bloody Baron as Draco saw the ghost come out of the entrance of the Slytherin common room – where at that moment was merely just a stone wall. "Bugger off now, you foul little—"

"Yes, Mr. Bloody Baron, sir!" Peeves squeaked fearfully all of a sudden. He stopped bouncing about and straightened up as one would when a soldier was at their captain's attention. "Right away off, Mr. Bloody Baron, sir! So sorry, Mr. Bloody Baron, _sir_! Oh, please, don't take away my stuffings, Mr. Bloody Baron!"

"Away with you!" The Bloody Baron said coldly before attempting to float a step forward towards Peeves.

Peeves yelped and began bouncing his way up the stairs, away from the dungeons – the Bloody Baron in tow.

"Clown's gone. Bye-bye, Mister Clown." Astoria said disappointedly, a ridiculous pout gracing her lips as Draco dragged them towards the stone wall. "Draco... my head... it _hurts_."

"I know, I know." Draco cooed at her irritably before looking up at the stone wall. " _Toujours purs_."

At the mention of the password, the stone wall immediately faded into a large door, swinging inwards. Before Draco could move further, Astoria had let go of him and began running down the narrowly dark length cheerfully, her loud whoops resounding throughout the passage and into the emerald common room.

"Come back here, you little wench!" Draco yelled after her as he ran in and tried to catch up to Astoria, who ran remarkably fast for such a tiny figure.

"Come and get me then!" Astoria said playfully as she hid behind one of the sofas, her green eyes lit up with so much enthusiasm that he had to resist the urge to smile at how ridiculous this was.

"Astoria, for the love of Salazar, this is not the time for dillydallying." Draco groaned miserably as he ran up to her, and she squealed delightedly as she simpered off towards the part of the common room where table set ups were used for studying.

"Is that really the best you can do, Drakey-poo?" hooted Astoria as she giggled, took off one of her heels and threw it at him before running off just as he had missed the shoe, nearly severing his head. He was flustered after hearing such a ridiculous nickname. How bloody hammered was she?

"How many firewhiskeys have you drank?" asked Draco and cursing loudly when he was merely an inch from Astoria before she had gone off again, now pressing herself against the middle wall that separated the stairs between the girls and boys dormitories.

Really, he should be frustrated – well, he is; more frustrated than he could possibly have been. And yet, a small part of him was enjoying the horrendously childish joy of it all.

"Hmm…" Astoria hummed thoughtfully as she panted, her chest rising and falling considerably. He was thankful to know that the little Greengrass had the capability of getting worn off by all the running. He was pretty worn off himself as he slowly made his way towards her. "Nine…teen! Or was it ninety? Merlin, I've forgotten how to count. Ooh, now my head hurts."

Draco chuckled breathlessly and felt his luck when he finally got to her on the wall. Astoria had one hand against her forehead now, a look of confusion that crossed with what seemed to be pain lit on her face. He put both of his hands on either side of Astoria's head, trapping her before him.

Astoria gazed up at him, her green eyes full of wonder.

"Tired now?" He asked her lowly as he leaned in the slightest.

"Very." She said in reply, the smell of firewhiskey wafted out of her mouth as she tried to move out of the way. Now more prepared, Draco took a hold of both of her hands and pinned them firmly against her sides, his fingers filling the spaces between her own.

Astoria inhaled before saying, "You smell nice."

The memory of the Amortentia incident suddenly flashed before his eyes. There was the sweet smell of vanilla and roses, the same smell that wafted from the very witch in front of him. Draco attempted to block that out, but he found it considerably hard now that he's gotten in close contact with Astoria after what felt like a horrifying eternity.

"Like vanilla… from cookies and sweets." Astoria drawled on, her green eyes never leaving his grey ones as her voice turned seemingly heated, almost seductive. "And tart apples… like freshly baked pie just straight out of the oven…"

Draco was speechless. He really didn't know what to say, having very little experience in handling drunk girls and the one time he did – he ended up snogging with her. That was Pansy Parkinson. Astoria was a different matter. She seemed to be coming to her senses now, as she can form less muddled words.

"Why did you start ignoring me?" Astoria's voice cracked this time, the headiness of her voice disappearing. Her green eyes now lingered with absolute sorrow, and he felt his stomach drop. "You… you just stopped talking to me. You stopped talking to me and… you were dreadful every time I tried to. You shoved me off into corners like I was nothing, like I was rubbish. What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?"

He couldn't deny it when he felt his heart quite physically break at what Astoria was saying.

"I know I may have said some terrible things to you at first." Astoria whimpered, sniffing a bit loudly as tears started to roll down her cheeks. "And I'm sorry. You know I don't mean them. I only said them because you were provoking me, but deep down I would never… I would never call you such things. I'm sorry if I had done something to make you ignore me. I'm so sorry… I've never been quite the social butterfly. Not a lot of people like me and I understand if you don't. But I thought that… after all of the tutoring and that you've been so kind as to even consider a day out with me… I was just… I was shocked and hurt but… I believed it had had to do with me. I'm sorry, I'm _so sorry_."

After all this time, he seemed to forget how small and innocent she was. Astoria was certainly feisty in her own manner, but at the end of the day there were things she probably had never gone through, dark things that he'd been through but she hadn't been cursed to. There were things he'd done that she probably had never imagined doing, and that's what painfully separated them.

Astoria's world was bright, an epitome of absolute happiness and all light – something he had craved for a very long time now. And still after all this mess of ignoring her and distancing himself away, she still had the heart to blame herself.

"Stop that." Draco couldn't help but hiss at her angrily. _Salazar be damned_ , she's crying. He instinctively began to wipe off her tears, his fingers trembling madly. "Astoria, don't you dare blame yourself, do you understand?"

"But Draco—"

"Don't blame yourself." He cut her off a little harshly than he had intended. A look of fear crossed her green eyes, and he sighed miserably as he continued to caress the tears off her flushed cheeks. "Look, it's not your fault, okay? I'm… I'm sorry I had to all of a sudden. You wouldn't understand if I told you why…"

"Then _help_ me understand." Astoria said desperately as she heaved, trying to control her tears though they seemed to flow more freely now. Her hands found their way onto his, so that they were now both holding on to her face.

She squeezed his hands softly, her green eyes ablaze as she went on. "Draco, for the past weeks, you've changed. I'm worried as I'm sure your friends are too. Whatever this is, whatever you're pulled into… I want to know. I want to help you. I… I _care_ about you. You're my friend."

Draco looked away almost immediately once he started to feel his eyes brim with tears. Astoria didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve her. At one point into all of this, he had considered Astoria as a road block – something to simply get out of the way towards his goal. But she was more than just the little Greengrass that used to tutor him now, more than just the younger sister of Daphne that was so overshadowed, more than just the girl that lurked in the libraries and befriended even Loony Lovegood. She had, in her own way, become even more to him than any of that.

Astoria had been his friend. Someone, at a certain point, he'd felt confident enough to tell about everything. If only he could… if only he could just reach out to her… _just tell her_.

He suddenly felt her soft hands hold his face, and he turned to her helplessly. It would just be easier to give in, to just be damned with it. But it was now a matter of whether one was right or easy, and it was only right that he left her out of the world he lived in. Astoria deserves so much and more, and he was neither of those.

"Astoria." Draco uttered her name, the sweetest name that's ever left his lips; pressing his forehead firmly against hers. It made him wonder why he even called her little Greengrass in the first place, when she had a perfectly beautiful name.

"Draco." Astoria whispered softly as her fingers caressed his cheeks.

By Merlin, her voice could rattle the stars.

The haze of what felt like a dream before him dispersed at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Draco immediately moved away from Astoria, trying to regain his composure of vulnerability as he looked over towards Blaise who had a half smirk, half irritated curl on his lips.

"Trying to steal my date, ey, mate?" Blaise said jokingly as he jutted his chin towards Astoria. "You alright there, Tori?"

A small whimper came from the witch pressed against the wall before she said, "I think I'll just go now, then."

He whirled around to find her already walking up the steps towards the girls' dormitories. Astoria stopped at the third step, looked towards them – though her gaze lingered a little longer on Draco. "Goodnight, you two."

And she was gone.

When her distinct footsteps can no longer be heard, Blaise began.

"What was that all about?"

"It's nothing." said Draco miserably as he sat down on one of the cushions, running his fingers through his white blonde hair in frustration.

"Now you know what it's like," Blaise said just as. "—to have someone so painfully out of your reach."

It crushed Draco how remarkably right he was.

* * *

 **January 1997**

Draco could hardly believe that he's made it into another year. Not only months ago had he thought that the Dark Lord would kill him the minute he stepped into Malfoy Manor. It seemed so long ago, and yet the weight of the mission the dark wizard had given him seemed to torture his senses from time to time.

Christmas was a blur as he went back home for the holidays. He and his mother had a quiet holiday, which seemed so rambunctiously odd. Never since he was old enough to understand what went on with the world had he had a quiet Christmas. The manor always held the most grand of Christmas balls or galas. It was a custom that has been held from one generation after another; except for this generation. Since their family name had been terribly tainted with his father being sent to Azkaban, his mother thought it wise not to throw a ball in the event of such. Not only would it further defile their family name, but it would also feel wrong without his father there with them.

The many lot in the Sacred Twenty-Eight weren't surprised of the sudden lack of grandeur from the Malfoys. He's read the _Daily Prophet_ quite enough to read the articles that titled; _Malfoy Manor, after 85 years of tradition, discontinues annual Christmas Gala; according to Narcissa Malfoy (nee Black)._

And really, the intent of the articles said quite enough as they read, _"Well, I'm not surprised the young Mrs. Malfoy would withhold such extravagant events in her manor. After all, the horror and shame of the Malfoy name's falling from grace at her husband, Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment in Azkaban says quite enough, don't you all think? The woman has a right mind not to. And who **would,** anyway? It doesn't seem like the Malfoys have enough continuing allies or ties with anyone in the pure-blood society with their name now so tarnished."_

It took most of his self-control and his mother's coaxing not to march his way right over to the Ministry and shove their hateful articles up their ass.

To his surprise, he still got presents for Christmas despite their family name now so "tainted" as most people would put it – though not as many as he'd normally get. He had one from his mother, the Zabinis, the Parkinsons and oddly enough, one of each from Crabbe and Goyle. Although the pile was few on Christmas morning, it felt more real to him than anything. At that point, he knew who his real allies were.

But what really shocked him, and his mother, the most was that the Greengrasses having extended an invitation for them to attend the family's annual New Years' Gala. This made Draco very nervous, though nearly not as nervous as his mother. They had hoped that at least someone from the pure-blood society would invite them to a Christmas party at the very least in December. The fact that the Greengrasses would still do so even if it were a tad month late was a revelation to both of them.

"It's only proper that we do." Narcissa hummed as she continued to stare at the emerald invitation at hand, sipping her cup of tea from the other. "After all, the Greengrasses have been a family friend for generations now."

The last sentence that his mother produced had a tinged of hesitation to it. Draco always knew that the Greengrass family's a kind, though quiet allies of the Malfoys. Their families met very occasionally, and were only ever together during important gatherings. It was in those very rare events that he actually met Astoria, though he tried not to think about it too much. Had it been her idea to continually invite them to her family's annual gala?

But what bothered him, though, was that whenever his mother, or even his father, discussed the family relations between them and the Greengrasses; there was always an air of uncertainty – like there was a secret Draco knew nothing of. Whenever he questioned his suspicions about it, his parents would so often wave it off as if he didn't deserve to know anything going on in the matter.

"Are you sure it's _wise_ , rather than proper, for us to go, mother?" Draco questioned, fixing his emerald tie prominently before turning to look at his mother. "We can always decline."

"Oh, darling, don't be ridiculous." Narcissa totted as she set her tea cup down with a light clank. "It's a miracle we're even invited in the first place. We must make an appearance. It's only right we continue to uphold the Malfoy name, no matter how… Anyway, we can't be sufficed to stay behind closed doors while everyone's enjoying the frivolity of the New Year. It's only best. Yes… only best."

"I meant if it's wise for you," Draco reformed his intentions. He walked over to where she sat and kneeled before her, taking his mother's hand warmly before squeezing it. "I can handle pulling up appearances. It's _you_ I'm worried about, mother."

It wasn't a secret that his mother was still upset about his father's imprisonment. The first stage was constant anger, mostly because only ministry officials were pardoned to visit their relatives in Azkaban. And seeing as neither of them were, his mother hardly involved just as much with politics, weren't able to visit his father in the dunged prison.

Then, often he'd hear her cry herself to sleep every night. Sometimes he went in and comforted her, and other nights he just wallowed in his own pity – not bothering to join hers. His mother wasn't exactly… _stable_ , if there was a better word for any of it. She's lost the light in her eyes and she often looked so defeated, and yet; she never failed to try making certain things positive on occasion. Like now.

Narcissa smiled at him kindly as she put her hand on top of his. "I'll be fine, dear. I think it's about time we try to… turn a new leaf, if that's what you call it these days. It's a new year, after all. It's only wise to simply pick ourselves up and… well, make do with what we have."

Draco nodded stiffly at this as he rose and offered his mother his arm. They were already dressed for the Greengrass New Year gala, both in matching colors of black and the darkest shade of emerald they could find. Sprightly colors weren't quite their thing.

They made their way down the foyer, his mother setting instructions for their new house elf Poppy to keep the place at top condition despite very little people in the manor. When Poppy the house elf nodded, she immediately scrambled away from them to set off to work. His mother tightened her hold on the loop of his arm as they exited the manor, walking several feet off towards the iron wrought gates.

"Ready, dear?" Narcissa asked him, a small, though nervous smile gracing her red lips.

Draco merely nodded, and he felt a quick jolt around the nape of his neck – as if he were being pulled elsewhere. Every second was a blur as he side-apparated with his mother. Then in the blink of an eye, they landed with a soft thud against trickles of powdery snow under their feet.

The Greengrass manor was not as big as theirs, but it was certainly a strong contender. Structure-wise, the manor was elegant in whites and golds lined everywhere, two high towers bulging on either side of the building. Daphne had told him once that their manor looked much like the Esphigmenou monastery in Greece, though he could hardly imagine most of it for he had never traveled that far out of the European continent.

They strolled airily towards the double doors where two Aurors stood guard. His mother handed over their invitation, and once checked, let them through the polished doors. Two high-rise stairs rose on either side of the foyer and they were led by a servant dressed in whites towards the ballroom.

Soft, classical music played heavily as they entered. The event seemed to already be in full swing, with numbers of prominent pure-blood families scattered everywhere – laughing and toasting to the New Year. Servants walked around aimlessly, trays of small appetizers in hand.

Everything seemed to be a color of white, gold and emerald – curtains, droppings, tablecloths – all manner of furniture. Somehow, he felt oddly overdressed in his all black apparel. Quite literally the lot of the people was dressed in remarkably sprightly colors.

 _As if there was anything bright to celebrate_ , he thought to himself darkly.

"Narcissa! Young Draco!" came the cry of Cassandra Greengrass clad in an emerald gown. From behind her trotted Astoria – who he tried very hard not to make eye contact with – and Daphne Greengrass, both their arms looped around a man between them who happened to be Cepheus Greengrass, their father.

"Cassandra, a pleasure," His mother beamed at the woman, slipped her arm away from him and went right off to sharing cheek kisses with the other blonde woman. "Thank you so kindly for inviting us. It was quite a shock when we received your invitation."

"Oh, nonsense, Narcissa." Cepheus chided merrily as he slipped his arms off his daughters, making his way towards Narcissa and taking her hand in his. He kissed the back of her hand briefly before holding it in both his hands. "Our families have been friends for years. In fact, I consider it an honor that you and Draco came."

Draco greeted Cassandra in the same manner that Cepheus did to his mother, and then shared a warm shake of a hand with Mr. Greengrass.

"Astoria, Daphne," Cassandra called to her daughters from behind her. "Come say hello to Draco."

At this, he swallowed whatever nerves that seemed to rise up in his throat like bile. Astoria and Daphne neared him, but not nearly close enough for a greeting. He stepped towards them, their hands slightly outstretched for the common greeting.

"Daphne." Draco placed a brief kiss on the back of Daphne's hand. The blonde was dressed in a gold gown, the reflection of such a sprightly color nearly blinding his eyes. He looked up to find that she smiled at him placidly, well, almost threateningly, actually. A sudden flashback of the time Daphne Greengrass smacking the living daylights out of him made him shiver.

Then he moved stiffly towards Astoria's outstretched hand.

He took her soft hand in his and planted a kiss on the back of her hand. His grey eyes searched her green ones longingly, his kiss lingering a little longer than he had with Daphne and Mrs. Greengrass. By Salazar, she looked absolutely beautiful – even more than when he had found her drunk after Slughorn's Christmas party. Astoria's hair was tied up in a bun, pinned with sparkling diamonds and jewels, capturing her soft face well. She was sheathed in a lace white gown, a silver belt accentuating her divine curves. There was that common air of gentleness to her as she stared right back at him just as longingly.

 _Merlin's soggy balls_ , he thought to himself desperately as he couldn't possibly take his eyes off her.

Her pink lips were shaped in a small 'o' now, as if she intended to say something. He'd nearly forgotten that they had company around them and it only reminded him of such when he heard someone clear their throat. The connection between him and Astoria broke as he pulled away durably.

"Yes, well, do enjoy the party, Narcissa, young Draco." Cassandra chimed rather forcefully as she quickly pulled Daphne and Astoria towards her husband. "Dinner will be about in a few minutes. Do join us at our table with the Parkinson's, Zabini's and Nott's?"

"But of course. Thank you again, Cassandra, Cepheus." His mother regarded them brightly before she looped her arm around Draco's once more and they strolled away from them.

Draco didn't bother to look back as he took two glasses of champagne from a passing servant and handing one to his mother. There was a small silence between them, only then realizing that a lot of people began to stare at them. Some sent them nasty glares, others looks of fears while everyone else remained placid; neutral, if you will. It didn't do well for either of them.

"Mother," He started conversationally. "I've always wondered… why you seemed so nervous around the Greengrasses. So did father a few years back. Is there something I should now?"

Narcissa pursed her lips into a tight line as she looked around the ballroom, trying her best not to make eye contact with him. "It's nothing for you to worry about, dear, alright? Now, why don't you go off and find Pansy or Blaise. I'm sure they've greatly missed you. It's not polite for us to stay huddled like this, after all."

"Mum," Draco said a little forcefully now, but his mother sent him a rather cold smile before trotting off towards Theresa Parkinson, Pansy's mother.

Not wanting to feel alone at a party full of people that hated him and his mother, he set off to find Blaise and Pansy. By the time that he found them, though, dinner was announced. They went off towards one of the larger tables in the room, where seated in a circular manner were already his mother, the Greengrasses, Theresa Parkinson, Amelia Nott and Theodore Nott and Blaise's mother, Donatella Zabini. Wide greetings went around the table as Draco took his seat beside his mother and Blaise. Adjacent to them were Astoria, Daphne and Theo.

"May I have your attention, please?" Cepheus's baritone voice boomed greatly around the large ballroom. Silence ensued as the classical music toned down to barely a whisper of a sound.

"Thank you all for coming to this marvelous gala, as we celebrate another New Year for the pure-blood society." Mr. Greengrass went on, and loud cheers erupted from the other tables at the mention of the word _pure-blood_. "Now, another reason why we've come to celebrate certain grandeur today is due to a union we have very recently acquired. Despite dark times that are sure to come our way, I'd like to shed a little light into this as I announce—"

There was a deafening silence as they all waited in bathed breath for Cepheus to go on.

"The engagement of my eldest daughter, Daphne Laurel Greengrass," He went on as gasps and cheers of delight sprung suddenly at Daphne standing up from the table, looking green. "And Amelia Nott's nephew, Theodore Archius Nott."

A loud round of applause broke out; gasps and boisterous cries of delight boomed throughout the entire ballroom as Theodore Nott rose alongside Daphne, a beetling smile gracing his lips. Draco pursed his lips at this announcement, though the look of absolute shock was most likely apparent on him. He immediately turned to Blaise who sat beside him, and he physically felt his heart sink at the sight of his friend.

Blaise looked like he had just lost his entire world.

Within the room, it would seem that only him, Blaise, Pansy and to his surprise, Astoria, were the only ones barely beaming at the sound of such "grand news".

"Yes, yes, marvelous pair now, aren't they?" Cepheus said with a radiating smile as the cheers slowly died down. "We have arranged for them to be married immediately after their sixth year at Hogwarts ends. I know it's completely short of notice, but I assure you – in dark times, there will always be light. And in that light, we _shall_ have a wedding!"

Now Draco felt sick. Understandably, Daphne would be seventeen by the time their sixth year ends – but it felt all so horribly wrong. Given, he and Pansy were already engaged literally even before they were born – but the plan of marriage came _after_ their seventh year at Hogwarts. He couldn't possibly imagine what it would feel like to already be married by his seventh year. Daphne probably felt terrible, despite the wide smile she produced beside Theo.

Now he heard Blaise attempt to rise from his seat, but Draco and Pansy took a firm hold of either of his shoulders and sat him back down. They didn't want their friend to make a scene, no matter how purposefully hurt he was. Draco felt for Blaise though. He can't imagine what he would have done if he'd heard Astoria was engaged either. He'd probably bust out of there with Blaise within the blink of an eye.

Cepheus Greengrass then announced dinner. The classical music amped up and immediately, the servants clad in white were now coming out from several doors with plates upon plates of food on hand.

Cepheus, Daphne and Theo all sat back down as warm congratulations circulated the table – their first meal, Pesto Arugula Wraps, were set before them.

"Oh, Daphne, dear, congratulations!" Narcissa dotted onto Daphne as she took a bite of her meal. "Cassandra, Cepheus – how extremely lucky, really. They do make a fine pair – perfect genes for bearing children, yes?"

The parents within the table agreed cheerfully as Cassandra beamed into conversation.

Draco heard Blaise choke on his arugula, and he instinctively patted his friend's back as he drank his entire glass of champagne. He's going to need something stronger than champagne to go through this bloody dinner now that the adults began it all with the mention of children.

"And how about your youngest, Cassandra?" Theresa Parkinson raved. "When are you sending off little Astoria?"

This piqued Draco's attention.

"Oh, Astoria is well-reserved for someone!" Cassandra said with a secretive wink. "Though that's a secret still to come. Besides, my little Tori's young. She still has so much to learn, doesn't she? How about your daughter, Pansy?"

"Oh, Pansy's already well-off to a proper pure-blood engagement before she was even _born_!" Theresa chortled with a wave of her hand as their main course arrived. "She's already engaged to Draco, if you recall."

"Ay, it's official then?" Cepheus interjected as he moved his eyes crossly between Narcissa and Theresa. "I always knew you already had Draco and Pansy down before they were even born, but I've merely heard it all rumors."

"Well, it's definitely no rumor, Mr. Greengrass." Pansy commented with a playful smile on her lips, trying to divert the conversation elsewhere; as far away from the engagement at hand as possible. "We're set to be married right out of our graduation from Hogwarts."

Draco wished he could be anywhere but here right now.

"Oh, Cepheus, keep up, old man," Amelia Nott laughed. "But of course Narcissa's had it down. It's been made official two years ago! Surely you should have known."

"Well, I'm an old man now, aren't I?" Cepheus wiggled his brows, and the adults erupted in laughter.

Draco now felt close to vomiting. His head spun even more when he accidentally crossed his gaze towards Astoria. She was looking at him, and he didn't know how long she had but he felt like it had been awhile. Her mouth was slightly agape now, and to his surprise, so was Daphne's. Astoria bit her bottom lip harshly before finally looking away, almost vehemently as she continued with her meal. Daphne sent him a crossed look before trying to poke her way through her younger sister.

 _Bloody hell_. Hadn't he ever told Astoria? Hadn't her parents already told her about it? If Cepheus didn't know, then surely his daughters…

 _Salazar's soggy balls, now_.

Draco was troubled throughout the entire dinner, perhaps even more troubled than Blaise was – who looked far too depress to even go on with dessert. Then, for a moment, he was mad at Daphne Greengrass. He'd seen her with Theodore Nott and thought that it was merely out of spite when really, she was already engaged to him. The least the bloody woman could have done was to tell Blaise the truth: why she declined him one too many times, why she didn't further a relationship between them. _The truth_.

Then he suddenly felt even more ill than he possibly could now. The truth. He's never told Astoria about him and Pansy's engagement, arrogantly assuming that she already knew because her family was in the Sacred Twenty-Eight and nearly all those that were non-blood traitors knew about it. And yet, he'd led her on.

He hasn't talked to her since the incident of her drunkenness. The next day after the incident, everybody was already boarding the train back to London for the holidays. Draco didn't know if Astoria even remembered what happened. Maybe she did, but only the parts where she'd sobered up and confronted him about his distance. He hoped to every saint that she'd forgotten. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he already has or still is.

Draco wanted out of this gala, out of this place and moreover, out of this world.

He warned his mother this would be a bad idea, and as always; he had been furtively right.


	13. Chapter 13: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** _by EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen: Astoria**

 **January 1997**

Astoria felt as if the whole world was completely against her. She had retired early from the New Years' Gala, hardly bearing all of the information that just met her like a tidal wave.

First, it was the sudden announcement of Daphne getting married right off the bat this year. She felt completely blindsided by both her parents _and_ Daphne. Daphne never told her that she'd be getting married this year. Merlin's beard, she's only just turning seventeen. Nobody in their right mind would allow it, especially since her sister hadn't even graduated from Hogwarts.

Then, oh, sweet Merlin, _then_ – the confirmation of Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy's engagement popped out of nowhere. Pansy wouldn't have gloated to her about it if it hadn't been true. And her worst fears came to light during that gala upon hearing the truth.

Not only was she mad at both Pansy and Draco, but she was also mad at herself. Her naivety got the best of her – and she no longer wondered why people called her _little Greengrass_. She knew _very little_ of the world and like her mother said, she's still so young. But fifteen years of age was not that young. In fact, she should have known more pains by now. She didn't think that pain had to involve an engagement she took no part in.

But she barely had time to dwell on her own pain. There were more important things like _her sister's incoming marriage_. It was still hard to believe despite being ingrained with the idea for weeks now. It had to take her a while before she could recover from the news of an engagement, and Merlin forbid she ever recovers from a marriage that's to take place in a few months' time.

The holidays finally came to a close when Astoria and Daphne were prompted to take the Floo Network to Hogwarts instead of the steaming red-engine train at Platform 9 3/4. Speculation circulated was due to the school's fear of having another incident like Katie Bell's from ever happening again.

Astoria could hardly believe how time flew. She had hoped to stay at home longer since hearing recent news about disappearances and sudden deaths, and that she had even begged her dad to let her stay a bit longer than necessary. But as always, she didn't often get what she wanted. It seemed a miracle that an illness would have kept her longer and far away from Hogwarts. And yet, when she most needed it, it betrayed her.

However now, she was sitting beside Luna Lovegood and Luna's other friend who had just recently sat with them, Neville Longbottom during dessert time at dinner on their first day back, having to catch up the way they unfortunately hadn't without the Hogwarts Express. They sat at the Ravenclaw table, which was hardly filled due to the lack of some late students.

Daphne, on the other hand, had dreadfully set off to do Prefect duties. Apparently, Pansy showed no mercy to her when she immediately told her sister to sub for her on today's Prefect watch. It was disconcerting, considering how since the majority of the students were sent off by Floo, there were still a number of Prefects lacking due to being late, no doubt. And Pansy found it entertaining to let Daphne do all the work, to which Daphne agreed reluctantly; never once having to say no to a Parkinson.

Astoria didn't even think it was possible to let someone else sub for Prefect, but perhaps if you were Pansy, you could bully anyone into thinking _such a thing_ is, indeed, possible.

The Great Hall seemed almost barren despite several students just now entering the space covered in soot and dust from no doubt the fire places they'd just floo'd in. Thus, it gave students some liberty to sit with their friends from other houses; despite the professors all seated up the steps—barely giving them much attention as they discussed feverishly amongst themselves.

Astoria was writing a letter to her aunt Cress in the middle of shoving a forkful of treacle tart in her mouth when she heard Neville distinctly question Luna.

"Luna, are you sure you want me to sit here?" Neville said timidly, and when Astoria looked up to meet his gaze; she thought she saw him jump up a bit. "With a Slytherin?"

"It's nice to officially meet you too, Neville." Astoria said between bites of treacle before swallowing the lot quickly and offering Neville a kind smile. "I would like to mind you that not all Slytherins are rambunctious, arrogant and evil."

"It's true." Luna nodded gleefully at Neville. "Like Astoria here, there are some, though a rarity to find, who are kind and brave but still possesses the cunningness and ambitious traits of their house. You can trust Astoria, Neville. She's one of my very good friends. I even got her an owl for Christmas, see."

Luna pointed towards a small Scops owl sitting next to Astoria.

Astoria couldn't help but marvel at the remembrance of receiving an _actual_ owl as a Christmas gift. Her parents never imagined pets in the house, despite Daphne wanting a ginger cat and Astoria an owl. When the scops owl arrived with a letter and a package of chocolate frogs from Luna, her mother went berserk.

Astoria then took the advantage of telling her mother that she owed her for sending off that wretched letter to Luna, nearly ruining one of the very few true friendships she's had in the school. Her mother was infuriated, but her father sided with Astoria, playfully saying, " _You do owe here, dear. Let her have the owl. Look! It's so tiny you could hardly see it_."

And tiny the Scops owl was; just as tiny as her, as her sister had said jealously. Astoria had named the owl Penny; the one pet name she had always reserved in case her parents ever finally agreed to get her one.

"Yeah, but don't you hang out with Malfoy's lot?" Neville asked, still unsure as he fidgeted with his shirt nervously.

Astoria naturally set out a laugh at this despite the depressing thought of hearing that one name.

"No, I don't." She shook her head. "My _sister_ is the one that hangs with… er, _his_ lot. I haven't gotten any lot myself except Luna over here. My own house turned their backs on me the minute they found out I tolerated being friendly with half-bloods and muggle-borns. Honestly, I see nothing wrong with it. The whole… pure-blood supremacy is just a tad bit too much. I mean, you would know, Neville. You're a pure-blood yourself, if I'm not mistaken."

Neville cheeks flushed considerably. "Well… I suppose… I'm sorry, er, Astoria, is it?"

"You can call me Tori." Astoria shrugged a little excitedly, her face lighting up. "Well, that's what my friends call me, at least. And I consider you a friend; that is… if you're okay with it?"

At this, Neville beamed at her. "Well, it's always nice to know a Slytherin that isn't so mad. Would it set you off if I asked you to jinx Malfoy?"

"At this point, I don't mind sending one or two his way." Astoria said with a small laugh and was satisfied to see Neville finding humor at this.

"Oh, Neville," Luna giggled delightedly before jutting her chin towards Astoria. "Are you sending that off to your aunt?"

"Oh yes," Astoria nodded eagerly as she read over her letter. "I could only write now to aunt Cress because of mom. She's intercepted my letters to you the minute you gave me an owl. I thought it only wise to write to aunt Cress while away from home."

It was true. Her mother kept a keen eye on Penny whenever Astoria tried to send letters to Luna during the holidays. Of course, she wasn't that daft to try to send her aunt letters excitedly just because she'd finally gotten her own owl.

After Slughorn's Christmas party, she sent her aunt an owl the next morning; her head pounding from one too many shots of Firewhiskey explaining her sudden disappearance, before she set off for the holidays. She'd specifically told her aunt not to send in a reply until she gets back from Hogwarts the next month. Astoria was excited to hear from her aunt now that she was staying at Hogsmeade for the majority of the school.

In the letter that she was writing now, she told her aunt about the holidays – her new gifts, Daphne's engagement and then soon to be marriage on July and, of course, told her all about Draco Malfoy in which she had narrowly missed to tell on the first owl she's sent out before Christmas.

People often make up how they don't remember anything happening whilst in a drunken stupor. However, Astoria remembered. It was muddled and hazy, but Astoria remembered it all. From her bounding down the corridors of the same floor endlessly, to _finally_ finding Draco Malfoy, to him leading her back to the common room and to feeling him just so remarkably close to her again.

It was good to know that none of Draco's sudden distance had anything to do with it being her fault. And yet, she still felt a remarkable amount of guilt no matter how many times he'd told her that it wasn't her. Perhaps it was simply one of the joys of being Astoria: always blaming herself for everything that's gone wrong unless she's absolutely, a hundred certain it's not her.

Just after Astoria set Penny off to send her sealed letter to her aunt Cress, the Prefects stood to start rounding up first years. Hardly any of the Prefects gave them mind, seeing as no trouble was amidst in their place. Only her sister, Daphne, trotted off to the small lot and slouched herself across Astoria on the table next to Neville.

"Rubbish, all this Prefect stuff is! Oh, hi, Luna." Daphne said in outrage, greeting Luna briefly. Luna nodded to her in acknowledgement before slipping on her Spectrespecs. "You expect me to get married with _bags_ under my eyes from all these Prefect duties. I'll smack Pansy's face for this!"

"There, there, Daph. It's only temporary." Astoria cooed at her as she glanced briefly towards Neville, who had scooted himself further away from Daphne. "I reckon Pansy just wants a good laugh. But you do know that _"no"_ is a two-letter word that can easily be said."

"Temporary! Pansy might make it permanent when the time comes. And don't you turn a cheek on me! I know how to say no sometimes." Daphne huffed as she crossed her arms on her chest before going. "I don't understand why mum and dad would have wanted me to become a Prefect at one point. This is far too much work. I had to think of the bloody counter-curse for a leg-locker some first year did to a fourth year. They're just _midgets,_ for crying out loud! How is it bloody possible for them to know that spell already?"

But just before Astoria could reply to her sister's rant, she saw a figure draw nearer towards them. In that moment, she ever regretted letting her eyes wander further away from Daphne.

Draco towered above them lazily now, his grey eyes darting at the odd group before they landed on hers. Astoria looked away to clean up her mess of ink, quill and parchments. She was far too embarrassed to talk to him now that she briefly remembered what happened last month, and even more now that her suspicions were confirmed of him being engaged to Pansy. At this point, she couldn't bear to even spare him a glance.

"Everything all right here?" She heard Draco drawl.

"Everything looks great." Luna said dreamily and Astoria saw the blonde tilt her head to the side. "You look oddly pale, Draco. And you've got a lot of Wrackspurts buzzing next to you. Are you alright?"

"That's none of your business, _Lovegood_." Draco hissed at her. "Nice face, _Longbottom_."

Astoria saw Neville smile crassly at him, then acknowledged him with a cold, "Malfoy."

She shoved a mouthful of treacle tart to distract herself from the conversation, nearly choking on it had she not the proper gag reflex.

"Greengrass, **get up**." Draco then said to Daphne. "You can't be staying in one place for long, especially when you only mean to chat up. Honestly, why Theo decided that marrying you was a wise decision…"

"Oh, _shove off_ , will you, Malfoy?" Daphne scoffed at him. "I'll be out in a second. I just need to rest a bit."

She heard Draco snort at this before he turned on his heel to bully some lot of second year Gryffindors. At this, Astoria could finally breathe a little better; having only realized she'd been holding her breath the entire time Draco had been near.

"He's been a complete _ass_ to me the minute we huddled up for Prefect stuff." Daphne ranted, flailing her hands around. "Probably had hoped it'd be Pansy with him today. Well, tough bloody luck for that git. What the hell's wrong with him?!"

"Well, you did punch him in the face. Hard, once." Astoria explained gently as she counted things off her fingers. "And you didn't tell his best friend, who had been pining over you for about a year now, that you were engaged to Theodore Nott the whole lot of December. You know, just the whole general of it all."

"Oh, you're engaged. Astoria's told me." Luna said softly before smiling. "Congratulations, Daphne. Will you be wearing pink for the wedding?"

Daphne sagged at the mention of the second reason, then the word "wedding" and stood.

"I feel sick. I need to go." She treaded lightly before leaving.

"You've got some strange connections, Astoria." Neville admitted as soon as Daphne was out of earshot.

Astoria sighed, "Neville, you have… no idea."

* * *

It was only after a week when Astoria received a reply from her aunt.

Astoria had nearly ripped off the parchment out of excitement in opening her aunt's letter before she read through it briefly over lunch.

 _Dear Astoria,_

 _My, I've forgotten that you've already come back to Hogwarts. It's been a long time since I went there, and have recklessly forgotten the exact time of coming back after the holidays. I'm so sorry for the delay! Right, any who – I wish you well a good New Year to come. I've missed you so much since you ran off; completely smashed from all the Firewhiskey we took. Good times._

 _I'm glad to hear that you've made at least one loyal friend since your first arrival at Hogwarts. I always feared you were quite anti-social or either has driven off friendships with your zero tolerance for pure-blood supremacy. But your one friend Luna seems to be enough. After all, she's to thank for finding me. Send her my warmest regards, would you?_

 _As for the case of Daphne's engagement, I'm absolutely petrified! I'm even more surprised that it wasn't your mother's idea, either. I never quite liked Cepheus to begin with – and I knew his pure-blooded arrogance would be you and your sisters' downfall. Look how terribly right I was at that. I do feel so sorry for sweet Daphne. She obviously deserved better than a son of a Death Eater._

 _And so do you, Tori. Draco Malfoy can shove his arrogant ass up another ass, because he **does not** deserve someone as precious and kind as you. Why are you downing yourself over such a self-centered man? You've said it yourself in your last letter. He deliberately ignored you and gave no reason whatsoever as to why, even in your state of drunkenness when it had been possible for you to not remember a thing. You'd think he could have poured his heart out, knowing you'd remember none of it the next day. Idiot. _

_And as for his engagement to Pansy Parkinson, well, that has been all the rage before you yourself were even born. The Parkinsons and Malfoys have been close family friends for centuries now, and they've been dying to pair off their own sons and daughters for a very long time. The Greengrasses only second to that of your family's friendship with the Malfoys, really. But still, I advise you not to keep yourself so depressed over this. So what if he's engaged? It's his bloody lot loss, letting go of a smashing gorgeous girl like you! A Parkinson is nothing compared to you, Tori. **Nothing**._

 _But that's all I have to say for now. I've heard your next Hogsmeade weekend is a week prior to when I received your owl. Care to meet me at The Three Broomsticks by then for a few glasses of firewhiskey? No? Alright, butter beer then, you weak little midget. I've got to hand you and Daphne your Christmas presents. And do bring Daphne along if you can. I've missed her so. We can mourn your sister's singleness over bottles of gingered butter beer. Or sherry, really. We're ladies, after all._

 _Hoping to hear from you soon._

 _Love,_

 _Aunt Cressida_

Oh, Merlin's soggy balls. How is it that in the spare bit of time that she's lived under the same roof with Daphne for nearly a month now did she forget to mention about aunt Cressida? Daphne would be _beaming_ if she found out that their favorite aunt was back in England. Nothing could make her any happier. Astoria decided it would be best to surprise her.

And really, what luck, when she saw her sister storming right into the common room, looking flustered as ever. Daphne slumped on the couch next to her, and when Astoria finally got a full view of her sister – she gasped.

"What happened?" Astoria asked her softly as she adjusted her silver and green scarf. "Oh, Daphne."

"It's that stupid Malfoy!" Daphne shrieked, causing some of the other students in the room to look at them skeptically. Her sister's face was covered in boils, though they weren't much; but new boils dotted her face every minute or so. "The nerve of him! Bloody bastard's out to get me, and before I could throw the same smack I've done him a month ago – he hexed me with boils!"

Now Astoria was infuriated. "He did _that_ to you?"

"No, Tori, he did a number on my _dear_ friend, Millicent— _of course to me!_ " Daphne screeched angrily as she shoved a vial into her jeans' pocket. "I've already got a cure for boils from Madam Pomfrey, but she said it'll be a week before the whole thing cures. I swear by Gran Cassiopeia's grave, I'll _murder_ him!"

Unbelievable. Astoria made a mental note to have a word with Draco Malfoy later. She didn't care if he so desperately needed to distance himself from her. _Nobody_ hurts her sister and gets away with it. But she put that idea to the side. For now, she had to drag Daphne out to Hogsmeade where their aunt was. Her sister refused constantly, saying that she wouldn't even _dare_ leave her dormitories for a week if she could help it. But eventually she was convinced when Astoria promised to send a bogey curse out to Draco.

By the time they've reached The Three Broomsticks, it was packed with students. It nearly took them minutes before they've weaved their way through the thickening crowd and found Aunt Cress sitting on a booth in the corner next to the window.

"Merlin's beard, is that aunt Cress?!" Daphne bellowed, but before Astoria could answer, her sister went bounding up towards their aunt.

Aunt Cress, clad in thick winter-wear, looked up in surprise and had barely made a reaction when Daphne crashed into her, hugging their aunt as tightly as she possibly could. When Astoria arrived before them, Daphne was spluttering so many words, she could hardly distinguish one.

"I can't believe you kept this from me, Tori!" Daphne said as she sat right next to her aunt excitedly. "Honestly, aunt Cress was all I needed in the madness of it all!"

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Astoria asked, slightly offended, but smiled nonetheless. "Anyway, I couldn't possibly tell you at first. Either that or I've honestly just forgotten, really. But I would have thought this'd be a nice surprise for you; with all the engagement and whatnot."

"Oh, goodness, that wretched engagement!" Aunt Cress growled just as the barkeep arrived with three bottles of butter beer and three glasses of sherry. "Ah, just in time. Take your pick, ladies. It's going to be a _long_ afternoon."

Indeed, it was a long afternoon. Daphne and their aunt mostly spent the time catching up, just as she and her aunt did during Slughorn's Christmas party. They were given their Christmas presents in the midst of it. Daphne had gotten a hand-knit sweater with her named stitched across the green torso whilst Astoria received boxes of Chocolate Frogs, Cauldrons and her favorite, Chocoballs.

Astoria had merely been there to provide extra information for Daphne, and telling trifle stories of her own. Eventually, Daphne ran out of things to say, though mostly because she's dozed off due to the lot of sherry she's consumed.

"Merlin, she's dreadful at drinking. Honestly, she's only had three and that's already knocked her off her rocker." Her aunt laughed as she downed the last of the sherry available on the table. "It's just so nice finally catching up with you two. I feel like it's been forever despite it only being four years. Why, you were at Hogwarts then, Tori, when your mother practically kicked me out of the country as if she was the Minister of Magic herself."

"You never quite told me _why_ she did that. Or why either of you fought over something to be begin with." Astoria said curiously as she began to open her box of Chocoballs.

"All in good time, Tori." Cress patted her hand warmly. "All you need to know is that it started when you got very ill during your first year in Hogwarts."

Astoria nearly stumbled out of her seat at the mention of it all. Bloody hell, in the event that she had first met her aunt, she really should have started questioning her about that. In all the trouble and mess she's been through, she'd completely forgotten about her strange illness and how it had anything to do with the Greengrass line.

She then began to explain the strangeness of her illness; how the St. Mungo's healers merely deemed her as "sickly" and how it once made her sick for an entire month, missing her finals during her second year. Then she started with the tale of her speaking with Professor Dumbledore regarding the matter and how he firmly believed it had something to do with her father's side of the family.

Aunt Cress seemed to have faltered at the mention of the Greengrasses. Astoria noticed this and raised a brow in question.

"Aunt Cress…" She trailed off carefully between bites of chocoballs. "Do you… do you know something? About father's side of the family? Something that… that might have burned down when Death Eaters attacked the manor?"

Suddenly, her aunt started to cry. Astoria tried to contain her, but it was no use. She seemed to be muttering words like, " _All my fault"_ and _"I should have known_ ". But no matter how much Astoria tried to comfort her aunt, she just kept sobbing wretchedly. At this point, Astoria didn't know what to do. Normally she was a helpful shoulder to cry on, but her aunt didn't seem to think she'd be enough for all of it.

By the time Cress had stopped bawling her eyes out at least, she finally turned to Astoria – her green eyes now bloodshot from all her sobbing. "Promise me you won't hate me."

"Why would I—"

"Promise me, Tori. Promise me, _please_." Cress begged softly as she began to rummage through her red purse where she heard a variety of what seems to be glass bottles clinking against each other. "I would never forgive myself if you hated me. I would never if I hadn't tried hard enough… your mother… she was too good. Too powerful for me to overcome. I've always been quite weak compared to _her_ , my own little sister. Oh, Tori, sweetie, _please_."

"I promise." Astoria cooed gently now as she hung on the edge of her seat.

Her aunt sniffed loudly as she took out two small empty vials. Uncorking one of each, she took out her wand and pressed it firmly against the side of her head. Before Astoria could ask what was going on, her mouth fell open at the sight of a silvery, glowing thread release from the side of her aunt's end to which the thread hung on the tip of her wand. It must have been at least four or five inches before she placed the thread into one of the vials, corking it shut. She did the same process, but this time the thread seemed longer, nearly ten inches before she corked it shut on the second vial.

It only very lately occurred to Astoria what her aunt had done. She'd extracted her memories and corked them in the vials. Astoria has read all about them in Daphne's books and she remembered that the only way to view someone's memories that were bottled up were through…

"Pensieves." She said aloud as her aunt pushed the two vials towards her. Astoria took both of them in her hands curiously. Never in her life had she seen something so beautiful and yet so sad bottled up. "But Aunt Cress, how could I possibly—"

And yet, before she could go on; she heard a loud _woosh_ right in front of her.

Distracted from her amazement towards the memories, she very lately realized that her aunt had just disappeared out of thin air; leaving a trail smell of sherry behind.

* * *

 **A/N:** After an entire year, I've finally managed to pluck up the courage to continue writing this fanfic. Thank you so much for your utmost patience! As of this moment, I have **revised** the previous chapters for this fanfic, so feel free to reread it at your own disposal. I will be posting chapter updates now every one or two weeks, depending on my writing schedule and as it's the holidays, things can be quite busy.

 **Please send a review** on what you think about this chapter, what you're expecting now that I've returned to writing this, and whether you liked the revisions I've made for the fanfic or not! I am always fond of hearing from my readers. :)

Till' then, enjoy, _  
 **EMPG22HoPe**_


	14. Chapter 14: Draco

**If I Lose Myself**  
 **by _EMPG22HoPe_**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen: Draco**

 **February 1997**

"Concentrate, mate." Blaise implored from behind him.

Draco stood before the Black Lake in the slightly chilly afternoon of February. He had been there often these days, other than the Room of Requirement. Apart from his demanding Hogsmeade meet-ups with his aunt Bellatrix with the Occlumency, he took the liberty of practicing non-verbal spells. He couldn't quite focus practicing it in a large class–with everyone else blithering and looking like they were close to puking their morning breakfast. If the practice required absolute focus and mental discipline, he had to do it somewhere outside the classroom.

At first, he had tried the task on his own – easily making certain objects levitate wordlessly every once in a while, but haven't gotten past the point of actually conjuring hexes or curses. Deciding that he could use with a bit of swallowing his pride, he had asked his friend Blaise for help – remembering very distinctly their small duel in the common room where he had his ass served to him.

"This is boring." He heard Pansy complain as he kept his eyes shut.

Naturally, they had to bring Pansy along to these little practices – otherwise she'd start complaining. It did get a bit annoying if she did; constantly poking at them to ask her to join. It had only been a week since Pansy joined them and she still complained of the trepid boringness of it all.

"Then you shouldn't have come in the first place, you blithering wench." Blaise told her haughtily.

And an argument broke out.

Lately, Blaise had been so easily provoked, if not irritated. The slightest of mishaps angered his friend, which resulted to his sending one jinx after another at people that pissed him off.

Draco couldn't blame him, really. Blaise had started the New Year with the worst possible news anyone could have ever heard. He and Pansy try not to bring it up whenever they were together; pretending that what happened at the Greengrass New Year Gala was merely just a joke, or even a dream. But no matter how hard he and Pansy diverted certain matters as far away from Daphne's engagement announcement back in January as possible, Blaise still found a way to silently sulk to himself.

Draco had never felt more helpless in seeing his friend than he did now.

But he let these thoughts drift off momentarily. He had other things to worry about. Draco opened his eyes this time, and he emptied his mind of anything that would distract him.

"Knock it off, the both of you!" Draco barked at them menacingly, strutting over between them and pushing Blaise to the side. "I've had enough of your pointless banters. This isn't the right time for anything remotely distractive."

Pansy scoffed at this and moved away. "This is absolute rubbish. Just get on with it already so I can meet Daph—er, I mean, _you know who_ and tell her to take over my Prefect duties tonight."

They avoided the name Daphne Greengrass like the plague.

Blaise looked like he wanted to say something, but he decided against it and huffed scathingly before walking over to the elder tree.

"Let's just try this one thing, and we'll be done." Draco said before brandishing his wand. He pointed it directly at Blaise.

His friend nodded listlessly as he too pulled out his own wand. "Alright. Disarm only. If we can get you to do that at least ten times within the half hour, we'll move on to curses and jinxes tomorrow."

Draco nodded, and with a flick of his wand, he mentally incanted with what little strength he could produce.

 _Expelliarmus._

Blaise's wand twitched a bit, but it didn't fully leave his friend's hand.

He flicked his wand again, a bit more pronounced than the first and incanted.

 _Expelliarmus!_

The wand jerked lightly, yet not enough so.

At this point, Draco was getting more frustrated as he briefly closed his eyes; trying to contain his rising anger. He'd been practicing disarming for days now and could only conjure up slight plucks from either Blaise or Pansy's wands. It was just as much of a difficult feat as practicing Apparition. Surely he shouldn't be bothered with getting distracted these days – but often he'd find his mind wandering off towards Astoria since that January.

Draco mentally hissed to himself, _enough of this rubbish about little Greengrass_.

With a little more purpose on the swish of his wand, he mentally bellowed the spell.

 ** _Expelliarmus!_**

Then, Blaise's hawthorn wand snapped off his hand; a jet of red light flickered for a moment before the wand landed on the damp ground with a slight thud.

"Well, _finally_." Pansy said brightly before coming up next to him and pecking a slight kiss on his cheek. "Well, that's one little non-verbal spell done. Best we get on, yes?"

"Not yet." Blaise growled as he picked up his wand. "Now he'll do you, Pans. Then, me. We'll circulate this until he can do it at least nine times more. We can't afford any more mistakes."

Pansy looked up to Draco pleadingly. Draco sent her a knowing look, as if to tell her that this is the only distraction they could possibly give Blaise at this moment. She seemed to understand by rolling her eyes in reluctant response, but she trotted off nonetheless onto a bulging stump on the ground and took out her wand.

The practice went on for another half hour, Draco already feeling drained by the ninth disarm on Pansy. By the time they were through, the castle bell rang signaling everyone to be back in the halls before nighttime. And yet, before Draco and Pansy could join him – Blaise was already heading off up the hill back into the school.

"I'm really worried about him." Pansy said beside him as they, too, began to follow Blaise up. "He's barely eating, barely talking to me at all and he's always so pissed off like I'd taken the rug out from under him. Can't you talk to him?"

Draco shook his head distractedly. "I told you that I've already tried. You remember what he said after the gala? _We never speak of this, any of this, or **her**. _ He's disgusted by the very thought of her."

"I can't imagine why. Daphne's my friend, but Blaise is even more." Pansy sighed in defeat, fixing her silver and green tie menacingly as they strolled their way towards the castle. "The best revenge I could possibly do on behalf of Blaise is to chuck Daphne into my Prefect duties. It stresses her out even more than classes and that's as thick as she could possibly get."

He couldn't help but smirk proudly at Pansy for this. The mess that was their friend, Blaise Zabini, was not a pleasant sight at all. And when you're a Slytherin that has a friend that's just been completely blown off – the worst possible thing you could ever do is actual murder for revenge. His mischief stirred at the pit of his stomach, now getting a thrill at poking mean-spirited fun at Daphne Greengrass a little freely now that Pansy was just as irritated with her.

In all of this, he couldn't quite forget how he had hexed Daphne with the boils. Pansy hollered so hard at this that they could have sworn they saw Blaise's lips twitch. While they never truly got proper permission from Blaise to ruin Daphne, he seemed approving of it despite his wordlessness in the matter. Blaise needed a bit of fun because quite nearly without him, Draco and Pansy were just all dry humor. They missed their friend, and they had thought that the only way to get him back was through sheer cunningness and plights of great revenge against the daft blonde Greengrass that broke their friend's heart.

Yet, even as they tortured Daphne Greengrass deservingly – Blaise was still remarkably heartbroken.

"I don't get you two." Pansy said all of a sudden.

Draco raised a brow at her. "What do you mean?"

"What is it with you and Blaise and those bloody Greengrass girls?" Pansy seethed then turned to look at him. "Honestly, you two act like they're some kind of goddesses when really; they're nothing but our own house: _snakes_. Pitiful and awful snakes, though. The most ridiculous pair; and everybody, even you two, think they're these special little _princesses._ "

"Are you really that jealous of them?" Draco asked her in the most arrogant way possible.

"Jealous?!" Pansy sputtered indignantly, her eyes narrowing. "Come off it, Draco! I would _never_. They're just being treated in a way that they really shouldn't, like little _Saint Potters_. Acting as if they're the perfect pure-bloods; why, that little Greengrass is more the epitome of a blood traitor than the Weasleys. And Daphne, oh, pitiful Daphne. You'd think she's so _precious_ when you can imagine the daft girl's choice in men. Theodore Nott, of all people. I couldn't have picked a blander, more boring bloke myself."

"You're so full of rubbish, Pansy." Draco shook his head at this. He couldn't possibly know what to reply to her weak rant. Normally he'd engage in all of this, but he's been far too drained and admittedly, out of practice in the sneering department to even cast an offensive remark at anyone these days.

"That's _rich_ , coming from you, _Draco_." Pansy drawled out his name crassly. "Snogging a little blood traitor like little Greengrass—"

"Shut your filthy mouth." Draco interrupted heatedly before stopping in his tracks.

"Well, it's true!" Pansy shrieked at him as she too halted then turned to him. Her bright blue eyes now more irritated than ever. "We are _engaged,_ Draco. If that hasn't crossed your mind already, then allow me to spell it out. **_Engaged_**. Still, you're running around, flirting with that little bitch—"

"That's enough!" Draco bellowed at her gruffly. "Nothing's happened between me and little Greengrass. And by Salazar, if you want more damning proof, you can ask her _yourself_. I'm sure she'll be glad to provide little to no details of our little love affair, as you've been so _lightly_ treading for the past few weeks. Isn't my shoving her off enough to convince you that she's _nothing_ to me? Well? Then keep your filthy mouth shut, _Parkinson_ , if you don't want the same boils on your face like I did Daphne."

"You're absolutely dreadful, Draco Malfoy!" Pansy fumed after a momentary look of surprise, her face turning pink in anger. "You stay away from Astoria Greengrass if you know what's good for you! You've _seen_ what Daphne's done to Blaise. I'm just trying to protect you from the other wench!"

"Oh, trust me; I _know_ what's good for me. You're not my bloody mother." Draco hissed, now losing any bit of patience he had for the witch before him. "And if you had a shred of self-respect, you wouldn't be getting jealous over a pitiful little girl like Astoria. It's bad form to get jealous over a measly fourth year, Parkinson. I trust you know that."

Pansy seemed to calm down at the last sentence because her shoulders slacked and she'd breathed out a heavy sigh before saying, "I'm sorry."

Draco's features hardened considerably. "Don't even."

"It's just that…" Pansy trailed off as she looked away from him. "You… you care about her, a lot more than you could give yourself credit for. And yet you know _deep down_ that she's going to ruin you."

"You can't imagine the number of times she's ruined me for the past few months." Draco admitted as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "But I've grown past that now. That's why I'm distancing myself from her. She deserves better than anything I've just put her through."

An uncomfortable silence followed his admission. It was nearly nightfall, and the bell from the school rang once again to signal everyone for dinner. They wordlessly continued walking up the steps, then towards the entrance of the school. By the time they've reached the foyer, Pansy spoke.

"Do you love her?" Pansy asked him quietly, her voice as hard as steel as she said this.

Draco pursed his lips into a thin line, unsure of the answer he wanted to give.

Love was far too strong a word. He knew Astoria, but he didn't know her _that much_. Till' then, it had always been physical attraction up until she showed him a kindness unmatched by anyone else.

"No." He said bitterly as they made their way to the Great Hall.

The place was already filled with students delving on tonight's dinner: roast pork and bowls upon bowls of mashed potatoes and gravy. A slight buzz was about regarding the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend which apparently landed ever so perfectly on Valentine's Day. He couldn't help but grimace at this. Just peachy. At this point, he was simply mentally bracing himself for another day of keeping Blaise from finishing off an entire bottle or two of Ogden's Firewhiskey.

When they finally arrived at the Slytherin table, his eyes accidentally flitted towards where Astoria and Daphne sat together. But before he could consider staring longingly, he saw Blaise sitting the far length away from the Greengrasses, alone. It reminded him greatly of why he despised the Greengrasses even more now than he's ever even possibly despised Harry Potter.

"I think you're lying." Pansy told him after a while when they finally sat next to Blaise.

They sat on either side of Blaise, who was picking at his food quietly, barely even greeting them like he normally would on a perfectly normal day. Pansy tried to make conversation with him, but their friend merely replied with half-hearted grunts and wordless nods. It was like talking to a brick wall, which Pansy doesn't seem to appreciate before deciding to eat her meal just as silently; occasionally throwing pressing insults at Millicent Bulstrode.

He, on the other hand, sat in silent mourning with Blaise, going through his meal just as half-heartedly as him. At this point in time, he'd had given up on opening Blaise Zabini to the topic of Daphne Greengrass. This must have been what Blaise felt like when Draco tried to push him away a few months ago.

It wasn't the kind of thing he fancied feeling.

Draco had never felt more helpless in his entire life.

* * *

All hell broke loose on Valentine's Day.

One would think that people would be at their "best behavior" on a holiday that involved all the repulsive couples. Had people truly lost their nerve for the past few months? Though he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't say he'd been losing his nerve too, but it certainly wasn't on a wretched day dedicated to snogging and shagging.

Draco hated Valentine's Day as much as the next sane person who hated it. It was a complete waste of time, and if he were perfectly honest with himself: had he had a girlfriend of his own, he'd have treated her specially _every bloody day –_ not just on some pesky, generic couples day. But of course he'd never let this sentiment out, not even to Blaise.

As for the hand on Blaise, he seemed to be the only plight of reason why he and Pansy were now even at Hogsmeade during the awful holiday. They went out to follow their friend since they didn't trust him on a particular day like this, where he could have easily spotted Daphne and Theo snogging in some corner on the street.

Pansy had greatly voiced out how she'd been expecting Draco to ask her out on that day, but they've made a seeming compromise that they'd have to put Blaise first above everything else. That, to which, Pansy reluctantly agreed to; which Draco was grateful for. He's never had a complete moment alone with Pansy since their conversation at the Black Lake, and he would prefer to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was to discuss his complicated relationship with her, which felt as nonexistent as ever until she started bringing up the snogging they've done in their fifth year.

Draco didn't know why he was even bothering with any of this today, though. He should be focusing on fixing the bloody Vanishing Cabinet now, trying to find other alternatives to kill Dumbledore, working hard on his non-verbal spells and concentrating strenuously towards his Occlumency.

But _no_.

Naturally he had to have had the decency of a person to half-way involve his friend, Blaise, into all of this. Draco signed up for a longtime friendship unknowingly when he'd told Blaise everything except of the actual mission and really, as much as he'd prefer to break what little contract they now had; _he was an honorable man_. And an honorable man _never_ lets his best mate go into the battlefield alone.

The cold afternoon of February breezed by them as Draco and Pansy silently followed Blaise into the village. It would seem that their friend wasn't in any trouble yet by just merely walking down the streets. But then they saw him enter the Three Broomsticks, and they knew it was only a matter of time before he came bounding out of the bloody place completely smashed.

A small bell chimed at the sound of him and Pansy entering the pub. It was nearly deserted inside, with only very few Hogwarts students hanging about in groups and a few much older witches and wizards drinking mugs upon mugs of butter beer. _Naturally_ , Draco rolled his eyes at this, for everyone else was at Madam Puddifoot's little romance tea shop celebrating the despicable holiday.

They saw Blaise seated on one of the boots near the window, three large bottles of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey sat before him accompanied by two small, empty glasses. Pansy looked at Draco worriedly, to which Draco pursed his lips with a nod.

When they arrived at Blaise's table, Draco saw that one of the bottles was already half-way finished.

"Of course you're here." Blaise drawled at them lazily, not even looking away from the window when he'd probably heard their footsteps. "Care to join your poor old mate for a drink?"

"Blaise, you've nearly finished an entire bottle. How is that even possible?" Pansy scolded at him, sliding into the booth to sit right next to their dark friend. "Blaise, I know it's a tough day."

"I consider it a perfectly ordinary day, Pansy." Blaise said darkly just as Draco sat across them. "You two didn't have to follow me out here."

"We don't exactly trust you alone at Hogsmeade." Draco replied roughly as he took the half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey and poured himself a full glass. "The last time we did, you nearly killed Madam Rosmerta with a spoon. _A spoon,_ Blaise."

Blaise chuckled under his breath and listlessly reached for the bottle, sporting the remaining contents of the drink. Draco saw Pansy look at their friend in disgust and looked as if she was about to say something, but decided against it when she opened one of the other bottles of Firewhiskey and poured herself half a glass.

There was a brief and uneasy silence between the three of them as they downed their drinks. Draco had no intention of getting drunk today, needing nearly all his strength to help Blaise get back to the castle in his drunken stupor and just as much for his Occlumency lessons with aunt Bellatrix later in the afternoon. He didn't want to be under influence of the _Cruciatus_ curse as punishment for his misdemeanor.

The sound of glasses clinking and the quiet, mewling conversations among the people in the pub proved to be surprisingly calming now. Unlike the tight pressure of being inside the halls of Hogwarts; for once, Draco felt at peace – until Blaise spoke.

"I loved her." Blaise said in a voice so low, Draco had to lean in to hear the full of it.

Pansy almost choked on her drink. "You loved _all_ the girls, Blaise."

"This is different." Blaise said rather defensively as he downed the last of the bottle of Firewhiskey he'd been nursing since they've arrived. "She's different. I'm not speaking out of wretched sentimentality and bitterness because of the bloody holiday. I'm speaking out of… well, the influence of Firewhiskey, mostly, but also…"

"I mean, you would know, Draco." Blaise changed the subject as he reached for the third bottle of Firewhiskey and popped the cork off effortlessly, as if he'd gotten so used to this already.

"I don't know what you're bloody talking about." Draco answered crassly before taking a sip from his glass, the auburn liquid burning his throat horridly.

"You and Astoria," Blaise arched a brow at him challengingly before casually taking a large swig from the newly opened bottle. Pansy's face twisted in disgust next to him. "I see the way you used to look at her. Though, really, probably still look at her."

"She's _nothing_ to me." Draco's throat burned just as much as his insides did when he said this. "We've discussed this, Blaise. And you already said this yourself for what bloody feels like the umpteenth time, and a broken record at that: We're to _never_ speak about the Greengrasses again."

"When I'm not around, maybe," Pansy snorted at this before finishing her glass then pouring herself another set.

Blaise smiled darkly as he swirled the bottle around, the auburn liquid inside sloshing soundly. "I keep forgetting that one little rule, I suppose. But can you blame me? I would bet you a _thousand_ galleons you'd be drinking the pain away if you were in my shoes."

Draco considered this. A part of him loathed how he might have agreed to it. Yes, he would down a few Firewhiskeys – even drink himself to death for it. But it was the coward's solution. No. If he were in Blaise's shoes, he'd pick the hell of himself up and move forward. It was the only way to punch what little emotion he had left. At times like this, love or whatever rubbish people consider relationships these days was completely out of the question.

If only they knew what was coming, they wouldn't even bother.

"Well, I certainly won't wallow in self-pity like you." Draco finally said, wisely putting his glass down. "So you loved the girl and she'd been sent off to marry another bloke. _Grow the fuck up, Blaise_. We're pure-bloods, and we don't always end up marrying the people we love. What did you expect? That Daphne would readily be available for you, especially at a time like this when a war's coming? _Think for yourself_ , mate. Just grow the fuck up and move on."

"Well, I'm not like _you_." Blaise argued, slamming his bottle of Firewhiskey against the wooden table. "I don't give up on the people that I love, no matter how off my rocker you might think I sound. I'm not like _you_ who have decided that your feelings are more important than others. I'm not like _you_ who barely give the girl a warning about any sudden distance. And I'm certainly not like _you_ because I, for once, have found someone worth fighting for and I know you have too – but you so blatantly pushed her away, thinking you don't deserve a shred of her care. Well, guess bloody what, _mate_ —not _everyone_ is out to hurt you, so maybe _you_ should learn to grow the fuck up."

Draco was fuming. He knew he shouldn't be getting worked over what Blaise was saying. The only reason his friend had said those was because he was now drunk, slurring words he'd later regret. But the severity of his words made him feel sick. His heart sank at what he'd said, and yet, he refused to show any form of vulnerability.

"Take those bloody bottles away from him." He commanded darkly before scraping the back of his chair and heading off onto the bar where Madam Rosmerta was. He could hear Pansy complaining as he walked away, but eventually her voice was drowned by the sound of Blaise trying to steal his bottle back.

By the time that he'd arrived at the bar, he could already see Blaise sobering up as Pansy consumed the rest of the Firewhiskeys herself. Draco turned towards Madam Rosmerta who had just finished brewing a cauldron of butter beer. He brandished his wand out cautiously, careful not to let anyone see what he was about to do.

Then when the perfect opportunity came to light, he pointed the tip of his wand at the witch and whispered the same unforgivable curse he had cast on her not too many months ago, " _Imperio_."

The witch's eyes looked reproachfully misty as she walked towards Draco, having a far-off look on her face when she'd been near.

"Rosmerta, put this potion in one of your meads." Draco directed lowly as he pulled out a small vial from his jacket and cautiously smuggled it towards the witch.

The blonde witch nodded dreamily as she quickly stashed the vial under the bar.

"Have a bottle of mead given to the first Hogwarts professor you see come into your pub in the next hour or so with the contents of the vial in it." Draco said lowly as he stashed his wand away. "Put them under the _Imperius curse_ and have them give it to Dumbledore as a prized gift."

Rosmerta nodded again just as the bells on the door jingled.

Draco drew himself away from the bar and was surprised to find that the booth where he, Blaise and Pansy had been drinking at was empty. When he peered through the window next to where they had sat, he immediately saw the ruckus from outside. Cursing under his breath, he left the pub with one large step after the other, stepping out into the cold of the afternoon.

The scene before the pub was the most typical Slytherin group one could ever come across.

Blaise had a terrible black eye bulging on his right all of a sudden, and he was being held back by Pansy who seemed to have more trouble with herself than with their friend. Then, with their backs turned on Draco, he recognized Theodore Nott being held back by none other than Daphne and Astoria Greengrass.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Draco yelled above the loud banter between the group that had already drawn so much attention to themselves.

Everyone within the small circle had stopped arguing when they saw Draco. Blaise still tried to fight under Pansy's grip. Theodore, however, had stopped struggling just as Astoria and Daphne had let him go. Draco briefly locked eyes with Astoria before moving towards the gap between the two sides.

"Blaise punched Theo!" Daphne exclaimed as she held on once more on Theo's arm. And obviously enough, Theo had a cut lip and a just-as-bulging black left eye. "You've got to bloody control that friend of yours, _Malfoy_!"

"He's his own bloody person, _Greengrass_." Draco hissed at her hotly. "I'm sure, unlike you, he's perfectly capable of handling his own affairs at a _respectable_ manner."

"Don't you _dare_ talk to my sister like that!" Astoria retorted at him, her small figure going on tip toes as she jabbed a finger at his chest. "You foul, arrogant—"

"Oi, back off, you filthy little _blood traitor!_ " Pansy howled at Astoria as she finally let go of Blaise to have her go against the younger witch. Unfortunately, Blaise beat her to the punch of causing a scene by bolting straight for Theo after being released.

Daphne screamed when Theo charged at Blaise again, and the two Slytherins began their brawl; falling over onto the damp ground as they rolled on over at each other. Draco and Pansy ran after the two to stop their fighting and yet, before they could even reach them, a loud cry of " _Immobulus_ " came from one of the Greengrasses.

A shot of light whizzed past them and onto Theo and Blaise, both now laying immobile on the streets of Hogsmeade in odd angles.

Draco turned to find that it was Astoria who had cast the freezing charm, her wand out and was now pointing it threateningly at him and Pansy.

Pansy brandished her own wand, and yelled, " _Ex—"_

But Pansy's wand had been disarmed with a wordless flick of Astoria's own.

This had Pansy standing still as though she'd been shot by the same spell as Theo and Blaise were.

Astoria now pointed her wand at Draco, her green eyes flaring with absolute repulse. Draco didn't even bother to bring out his wand; his arrogance banking on the wretched hope that she wouldn't attack him. Instead, he held his hands up, as if to call a small truce.

"Why you little—" Pansy started, finally shaking off her shock, but Draco held her back now.

"Stop it! Please! Can't you all see this has all gone _far enough_?!" Daphne shrieked, her voice trembling as she looked at the sight of Theo and Blaise, both bended quite awkwardly on the ground. Then she turned to her sister. "Tori, please stop."

"I'm having none of this!" Astoria raised her voice considerably, her wand still pointed at him. "Now, I want to make all of this very clear. _All of you_ and you damn well better listen to me before I hex a bogey or something far worst and trust me when I say it _won't_ be **pleasant**."

Pansy looked like she was about to say something, but Draco sent her a violent glare. She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it reluctantly whilst crossing her arms on her chest. Draco then turned to Astoria when he heard her go on.

"Daph, Pansy – I would like you two to please take Blaise and Theo to the hospital wing. I swear by Salazar Slytherin, if I find out that you two argued in the midst of this, I will _both_ have your heads on a silver platter and served to the wolves at the next full moon." Astoria hissed at her sister and the pug-faced witch threateningly. To his utmost surprise, neither witches said anything.

Then his heart raced nervously when Astoria finally turned to face him.

"And you, Draco. I shall have a word with you. _Alone_." Astoria's voice seethed with venom. "I don't _bloody care_ if you have this ludicrous pride of associating with a _blood traitor_. You'll have to chuck that blasted ego of yours down a notch for now. A word, _wandless_ , if you please."

Draco scoffed at this, readying to take out his wand. She ought to speak for herself, considering she was the one that had a wand pointed at him. But for some reason, the unforgiving look in Astoria's once soft green eyes frightened him. He had never seen her so angry. Perhaps a number of few times when he's riled her up during their tutoring, but none so violently and without remorse the way she looked now. This caused him to withdraw any attempts in taking out his wand, but he did keep a tight grip on it; just in case.

He wasn't exactly surprised when everyone had gone silent and seemed to have taken Astoria's command into account. Astoria was four times as smart and powerful at hexes and jinxes than any of the people in the outrageous group that had formed. Everyone knew better—even Draco, much to his dismay—than to test her patience.

While Draco's never seen Astoria as mad as she was now, he wasn't an idiot to go against her current demands. She'd have him disarmed and then dreadfully put in a leg-locker curse before he could say _Nox_. The fact that she can do non-verbal spells before he could even master it seemed an impossible, but admirable feat to him.

Daphne and Pansy both silently walked up to Blaise and Theo, eventually casting the counter-curse before screeching at the growing crowd to scram. By the time the crowd had dispersed, the two witches, too nimble for the weight of both wizards, cast a levitation spell on the two Slytherin boys as they moved due North back to Hogwarts.

Astoria then pulled him to the side next to the Three Broomsticks, her wand nowhere to be seen in which at this, Draco's shoulders seemed to slacken in relief. And yet, the dangerous look on the Astoria's face didn't calm any of his senses. In fact, he was rather terrified.

"You ought to learn to control your friend, Draco." Astoria told him tersely, crossing her arms on her chest. "Blaise nearly _killed_ Theo. We were perfectly fine walking about until he suddenly shows up, all in his drunken stupor and starts attacking Theo like an animal. I thought that you have at least had the decency of keeping Blaise at bay."

Draco's eyes flared, any fear of Astoria's anger melting away. "I'm not Blaise's _keeper_ , for Merlin's sake. You can't expect me to be around him 24/7 before he does anything remotely idiotic as to smack the living daylights out of Nott. Besides, he wouldn't be acting this way if your wretched sister had just told him about her engagement."

"Oh, _rubbish_!" Astoria barked angrily. "Don't you _dare_ blame this on Daphne! She's already warned Blaise about the taboo of it all. She's told him a _thousand_ times that she can't, but your friend, ever so reluctant, continued to chase after her. Well, he's got his tail between his legs now, right? If anything, it's his bloody fault! He has _no right_ to get mad at her when she's warned him so many times!"

"Then don't bloody blame it on Blaise, too!" Draco challenged fleetingly, loosening his grip on his wand now as he took a dangerous step forward, his face nearly inches from her. "The least Daphne should have done is tell him about the engagement! He would have rather accepted it hearing from her than being invited to your blasted gala and finding it out there, completely unprepared. Your sister's made a _fool_ of him! So excuse me for thinking that your sister is a good for nothing whore who's done absolutely nothing but break hearts like some wretched bimbo!"

Astoria's eyes flared maddeningly as took him by the coat, shaking him terribly. "You take that back, Draco Malfoy! _How dare you!_ She was _trying_ to save him the trouble! Daphne **begged** mum not to invite Blaise. She couldn't bear seeing him there. She didn't want to hurt him anymore than she already has! She didn't ask for any of this!"

"Oh, how bloody _honorable_ of her—"

"She _loved_ him!"

"He **loved** her too!"

This seemed to silence both of them into shock. Astoria had let go of his coat carefully, her green eyes softening as she took a step back and tried to look anywhere but at him. Draco did just the same, taking a step back and slipping his hands in his coat's pockets awkwardly. Normally, he'd throw a retort or two at this point. He never did quite enjoy the brief silence after an argument. But he decided against saying anything else. The situation had gone far enough.

Draco knew for a fact that Blaise was mad for Daphne – but he'd never thought of Daphne's feelings towards Blaise in any way. Astoria must have been thinking the same thing, the way her face contorted in sheer confusion. It nearly drove him mad at how terribly this conversation was going. This was one of the many reasons why he thought it wise to avoid Astoria, or any of the Greengrasses, really. They do more damage than dragons ever could.

"Petty, isn't it?" Astoria asked in a small voice as she fidgeted with her fingers. "If they had just told each other how they felt…"

Draco nodded wearily. "That honestly would have saved us all the trouble."

Astoria hummed in agreement.

There was another round of silence, save for the sound of store bells ringing and people conversing as they went down the streets of Hogsmeade.

"I think it's best that they… never spoke again." Astoria said timidly, biting her bottom lip. "There's too much damage at the moment. And everyone's pressured, especially Daphne. It's only wise that we keep them apart."

"You, Astoria Greengrass, would keep apart what might have been a perfectly good relationship?" Draco asked, quirking his brow in surprise. "But I suppose it's only right. They'll only just hurt each other even more if they're together."

Astoria bobbed her head slightly, still not looking at him. "We have an agreement, then."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, though he was dreadfully unsure what. Everything that's transpired left an odd trail on them. He hasn't spoken with Astoria for months now. Though they have very brief encounters and slight glances, it never came close to a full conversation until now. Even at the Gala, when he had wanted to talk to her but decided against it. What good would it do to either of them? And like what Astoria had said; _there's too much damage at the moment_. He had a feeling she wasn't just referring to Blaise and Daphne.

But then, he caught himself saying, out of nowhere, "I can't tell you."

At this, Astoria finally looked up at him; her green eyes sparkling with confusion and pain. "Can't tell me what?"

"Why I decided to distance myself all of a sudden." He answered as he looked away from her then balled his hands into fists nervously in his pockets. "You wouldn't understand if I told you."

"Then _help me_ understand." She told him softly, her voice trembling as he heard her take a few steps forward. "Draco, you… I didn't… I didn't know if I'd done something—"

"You didn't." Draco interrupted her a little harshly, getting angry with himself. How could Astoria possibly think all of it had been her fault?

"Is it because you're engaged to Pansy?" Astoria voice croaked, and he felt his heart sink at the sound of it. "If it is, then I perfectly understand. I didn't know you two were until Pansy told me in December, even more when your mother confirmed it last month. I'll gladly step out of the way, then. It's certainly not my place."

Draco bit the side of his cheek in anger.

"You just disappeared." Astoria sounded firmer now in spite of a few cracks here and there. Draco looked up to her helplessly. "I obviously don't know anything about… whatever had been happening between us. But I was quite sure everything was fine and then you were just gone all of a sudden. I didn't know what to do. I was so scared. I thought I'd done it again; that I'd scared someone away because of how I am. I just wish people like you could stop treating me like I never meant anything."

His grey eyes widened at this.

"Yes," Astoria nodded mournfully. "I know what you said to Daphne then you hexed her with boils when she hardly relented. You told her that I meant nothing to you."

"Astoria—"

"I thought that you would at least have the decency to tell me that yourself." He heard her choke, the light in her green eyes dying feverishly. "Now I know what Blaise feels. To not have the truth told but instead hearing it from somebody else. If people just told the truth…"

"You think everything would be solved if anyone ever told the truth, Astoria?" Draco couldn't help but cut her off as his entire body slacked, her naivety shocking him to anger. "Blaise and Daphne's condition is far different from our own. I can't tell you, and that's as final as anything. I'm not risking _your life_ by telling you the truth. I'm trying to _save_ you."

Astoria's eyes widened before she looked away meekly. "Yes, but the last time I checked, I never needed saving."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, _anything_. He hated himself for this moment, for not being able to defend himself. But it was better that way. It was better she didn't know anything. How could she think he was avoiding her for selfish reasons? Couldn't she see that if it had gone any further, she would have been a victim in the crossfire that was Voldemort? Can't she see what he's been going through?

 _Look at me_. He wanted to scream at her desperately. _It's killing me._

"Goodbye, Draco." was the last he heard of Astoria Greengrass before she disappeared out of sight.

* * *

 **A/N:** It looks like this is the end for Draco and Astoria... _for now._ Of course, what's a fanfic without throwing in some full-on **angst** in there, yes? Don't worry, they'll be alright soon enough. But till' then, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. How did everyone feel about Blaise? How do you think Draco should tell Astoria about his Dark Mark, or not tell her at all? Please favorite/follow and **leave a review**! I love hearing your thoughts and I am always open for constructive criticism.

Happy Holidays, everyone! I'll see you all again in a week!  
 _EMPG22HoPe_


	15. Chapter 15: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself**  
 **by _EMPG22HoPe_**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen: Astoria**

 **Early March 1997**

Brisk wind blew towards her as she stood atop the Astronomy Tower, two little vials containing silver threads in hand.

Astoria hasn't spoken to her aunt Cress in nearly four weeks. After she had brought back her drunken sister to Hogwarts straight off the Three Broomsticks encounter with their aunt, she immediately went off to send her aunt an owl. By the time her aunt hadn't responded in over a week, she tried to go to Hogsmeade and search through some of the pubs that offered guests to stay in. Cressida Shafiq had been staying at the Three Broomsticks since December, but Madam Rosmerta informed her that she had left right before February started. Nothing could have ever broken Astoria's heart more.

Had her mother found out that aunt Cress came back and had done something to get rid of her again? Astoria didn't doubt her mother. She was far more powerful than anyone in the family. Cassandra Greengrass was even more powerful than her father – who was a well-renowned wizard due to his work at the Ministry as Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and a man who had a penchant for dark magic. If there was any consolation to her aunt missing yet again, it certainly had something to do with her mother.

Even when she had asked for Luna's help again on the matter of finding her aunt, it would most likely take months now – for she couldn't tell if her aunt had decided to get as far away from Great Britain as possible. All she had left was, much to her great dismay, two vials of her aunt's memories.

She has not had any luck on that either, for pensieves were a rare sort of magical item to come by. As it so happens, most library books have told her that the current Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts would have one of their own. However, Astoria hasn't had the time to ask Professor Dumbledore. He'd either be too busy for visitors, according to Professor McGonagall or he'd be away from Hogwarts at long periods of time.

Of course, she expected this. Albus Dumbledore was a very busy man, and it often made her feel guilty that she would even bother him with something so simple as her being horribly sickly.

And yet, the professor had promised to help her in any way that he can. She held on to that a lot more than she could have possibly hoped for. Now that she had something, _a miniscule of a clue_ from her aunt – she was more than determined to press the matter at hand. Astoria didn't trust telling Professor McGonagall the very reason why she needed to see Professor Dumbledore. It was only the headmaster that she would trust with the little memories her aunt had left her before vanishing.

Astoria stressed on this for days on end, unable to take her mind off of it on top of other things.

That included, much to her dismay, Draco Malfoy.

It had only been about two weeks since the great incident of Theo and Blaise's fight. It terrified Daphne to the core and was rendered mute for days. Astoria couldn't blame her. Had it been Draco and some other guy that Astoria was forcefully engaged to, she'd have been speechless for months.

Normally she didn't try to get herself involved in her sister's "love life", but she thought this time an exception. Blaise was still her friend, despite the mess that's been tangled up at the Gala. It was hard to side with her sister at times when Blaise had his own fair points.

After all, Astoria felt much more for Blaise than Daphne. She knew a thing or two about people not telling her the truth. This, however, made her mind drift off to Draco.

As if by force, she felt her heart sink. If it was even possible for it to physically break within her, it most certainly did right now.

All of it felt as if she'd been broken up with; not that any of it made sense. She and Draco were never together in the first place, and yet… when she'd said her goodbye, why did it feel like the whole world just collapsed right before her eyes?

Astoria felt hallow as she tried to push these thoughts as far back as possible.

 _There are more important things_. Her father would advise. _You should always put yourself first. That's what a true Slytherin does._

When had she ever put herself first? Astoria had always been selfless, putting other people's needs above her own. It was the one trait Slytherins looked down on, but she prided herself in it. It mattered not if she didn't have the light as long as the others had it within them because of her.

Her thoughts, though as deep as they come, were then interrupted by the sound of a very familiar voice.

"I'd thought I'd find you here, Miss Greengrass." Albus Dumbledore said calmly.

Astoria turned around from where she stood against the railing of the Astronomy Tower. It was nearly nightfall, and everyone would be at the Great Hall by now eating dinner. She knew she should be there as well, but she didn't feel hungry at all. In fact, she was so consumed with her own thoughts that she'd barely given herself any self-care. It was only a matter of time before she got sick again, as she had been remarkably thrice already in February.

"Professor!" She said far too eagerly as she held onto the two vials in her hand tightly. "I've been—"

"—looking for me." The professor continued for her as he nodded. "Professor McGonagall has told me. I apologize for my absence. It's been a very… not so pleasant start of the New Year."

Astoria bit her bottom lip guiltily. "It's okay, professor! I was just… well, you told me that when I finally have something that I should go to you immediately. And—and I have something. I was able to talk to my aunt at my mum's side and… she knows something."

"Is that so?" Professor Dumbledore asked curiously.

She nodded before opening her hand to reveal the two vials. "I thought that maybe she knew something about my odd illness. And this was what she gave me before she's disappeared. I haven't spoken to her in weeks. It's like she's just… vanished, which is certainly nothing new but… you see, it's all I have."

"Aah," Dumbledore nodded once his eyes drifted towards the vials on her hand. "I see she's left you memories. They're commonly the most useful thing at this point in our search. Very well, Astoria. Would you care to join me in my office? I believe we can view your aunt's memories in my pensieve together. Perhaps we'll be able to find some truth, if not the very full of it."

Astoria didn't need to be told twice. She followed the professor down the Astronomy Tower, feeling a great surge of hope engulf her as they went stairs upon stairs downwards. Nobody really knew where the office of the Headmaster was, but she had a great feeling she's at least seen the entrance before.

And sure enough, they managed to stop at the same place where Astoria last spoke to Professor Dumbledore. They were standing before a statue of a gargoyle.

"Treacle tart." Professor Dumbledore announced.

The gargoyle, to Astoria's surprise, came to life. It stepped aside as the wall behind it split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase which was moving swiftly upwards, like those muggle-made escalators. As she and Professor Dumbledore stepped onto it, the wall behind them came to a close. They rose upwards in circles, higher to the top, until at last, her head still spinning from the brief ride, she could see a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffon. The professor pushed the door open and together, they entered the space.

It was a large circular room, with trinkets, bookshelves and drawers of all kinds. The walls were covered with portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses, some of them brightly alive as they spoke to welcome the professor back. At the end of the room was a claw-footed desk and distinctly enough, on top of them, was a bowl of shimmering yellow things. Astoria assumed it was gold but as they drew further towards it, she realized that it was a bowl of lemon drops.

"Do you have the slightest idea why your aunt simply decided to leave these memories to you instead of telling you herself?" Dumbledore asked as he began to rummage through the glass shelf behind his desk, where she could see bottles upon bottles of potions and small vials quite similar to that of which her aunt had given her.

Astoria shook her head even though the professor couldn't see her. "I haven't the faintest of clue. That seems to be a well-written hobby of mine in the family for these past few months, actually… not knowing much of anything."

Professor Dumbledore hummed softly before turning around with a large, metal basin in hand. Runes and strange symbols seemed to be carved onto the sides, and when the professor laid the basin on his desk – Astoria saw that it was filled with a silver substance made of gas that flowed fluidly like liquid.

"Can you tell me what this is, Miss Greengrass?" The professor inquired patiently.

"It's a pensieve, sir." Astoria answered triumphantly, her heart thumping greatly against her chest in both excitement and nervousness. "One can view threads of memories of people through it by third person. Like one would be there at the very scene itself though unseen."

"Exactly." Professor Dumbledore smiled softly. "Perhaps, you should do the honors, Astoria. We can start with the longest one of the two, if there is one."

Astoria shuffled the two vials in her hand. She wasn't exactly sure which of the two was the longest for she never truly marked it right after. At that point in time upon receiving it, she was too stunned to even do anything. Banking on her gut, she took the silvery vial that gleamed more importantly – assuming that would be the longest. She carefully handed it over to the Professor.

Dumbledore popped the cork open and poured the silvery thread into the basin. Astoria was surprised to find that it seemed to be _,_ indeed, the longest. Once all of the thread had gone onto the basin before them, the professor beckoned her to peer closer.

And just as she leaned in to look, she felt a tug at the nape of her neck as she was transported toward a one-too-familiar scene.

Astoria stood beside the professor in Greengrass Manor. Unlike their current manor, this one looked livelier in color – curtains were drawn open and the portraits that hung spoke happily among themselves. It was a perfectly wonderful morning at that time, and sweet classical music faired throughout the manor. There were silver and white droppings everywhere, and Astoria had a feeling that they were at an event.

Standing before her and Dumbledore was her aunt Cressida; remarkably young – touching into her mid-20's. Cress was clad in a silvery gown that hugged her structure well, her dark as night hair tied up in an elegant bun where embedded upon her locks were flashing jewels and diamonds. She looked stunning.

But she also looked wistfully alone. Her aunt drank a glass of mead wordlessly, walking in circles in the foyer of the manor. From the left side where the ballroom was came laughs and loud conversation. The music bled from that room, along with the sound of bottles popping open and people cheering and chanting drunkenly.

Astoria curiously leapt towards the direction of the ballroom. From the slightly ajar door, she saw that there was a wedding reception inside. Familiar pure-blood families were seated on lilac tables adjacently towards the front of the room where she saw the bride and groom dancing. To her utter surprise, she saw that it was her parents. Her father, Cepheus, was dressed in the finest of emerald robes whilst her mother, Cassandra, wore the puffiest and shiniest cream wedding gown she's ever seen. They were merrily dancing at the front, along with a few pairs of pure-bloods on the dance floor.

"My parents' wedding day?" Astoria questioned as she turned to Professor Dumbledore and her aunt, who was still walking around in circles, mead in hand. "I don't understand, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded towards the door just as the music stopped playing and a loud round of applause occurred. Before Astoria could do anything, she heard the door beside her open a little wider where an elder couple strolled out. It felt quite weird because the two walked straight through her – like she was a ghost. She felt sick to her stomach. Only when she finally recognized the pair did she snap back to her reverie.

The elder couple that was now approaching her aunt looked awfully like the photographs she's seen of her grandparents. It was her father's parents, Grandfather Hyperion and Grandmother Cassiopeia. They were well-clad in the most elegant robes – and at one point, she saw the familiar green of her Grandfather's eyes – the Greengrass eyes – and her Grandmother's features that reflected greatly on her father.

For a moment, Astoria felt tears brim her eyes. She's _never_ met Gran Hyperion and Cassiopeia because she was barely even born before they've passed away from dragon pox. She resisted the urge to run over and hug them, knowing full well that this was mere memory and simply abstract.

"Cressida, my dear!" Cassiopeia greeted merrily as she pulled Cress into a tight hug. "You feeling well?"

"Quite alright, Mrs. Greengrass." Cress answered with a tight smile.

"A shame, quite a shame, really." Hyperion shook his head mournfully. "The number of times I've told Cepheus you'd make a better bride than your own little sister."

Astoria's eyes widened considerably at this as she stepped next to Dumbledore.

Cressida snorted as she took a sip from her mead. "Well, we can't be blamed. While I appreciate that you've have paired me off with your eldest son, Cepheus, I'm afraid he simply… well, he simply didn't love me as much as he did Cassandra. Little Cassandra… she always did quite well, often better than me. I suppose I was never enough."

"Oh, _rubbish_!" Cassiopeia retorted impatiently. "You're twice the witch Cassandra is, dear. Your sister's too… how do I put this? Too arrogant, too impulsive – she never quite thinks before she acts. It's a gruesome pairing, considering how Cepheus is just as arrogant and impulsive. A match so terribly made in hell that I'm sure could have been avoided if it hadn't—"

"Now, now, Cassie, my love." Hyperion totted. "We cannot blame dear Cressida here. I believe she's done quite her best to woo Cepheus. They were always quite suitable for each other."

"I don't blame Cressida. Of course not, dear." Cassiopeia gave Cress a bright smile. "I simply blame our son. The recklessness, _honestly_. He simply didn't want to be controlled. He wanted adventure beyond the world of common pure-blood sense. He's strayed far, oh, much far than Atlas – bless that boy's soul. I am completely livid, is all. How can I ever trust Cepheus again?"

"We can't. And since Atlas has far passed, I'm sure it is simply… time to entrust our history towards someone worth the family's name." Hyperion said gravely before turning to Cress. "The only person we could possibly trust, with any of our grandchildren's future, is Cressida."

Cress nearly choked on her drink before putting her glass down on a nearside end table.

"Mr. Greengrass?" Cress asked weakly.

Hyperion nodded at Cassiopeia, who, from within her small silvery purse, produced a vial much similar to the one that Astoria received from her aunt Cress. Only this vial seemed older, a little more pronounced. It seemed to be like one of the olden vials, from hundreds of years ago. Within the vial, a silvery thread danced dangerously like a little creature, one that seems to be dying to get out. Cassiopeia handed the vial to Cress, who still looked remarkably speechless, staring at the vial curiously.

"What is it?" Cress asked as she shook the vial warily.

"Don't shake it too much, dear!" Cassiopeia hissed, causing Cress to stop. "That is a _very important_ vial, Cressida. And you must listen carefully. This will concern sweet little Daphne and what I assume to be Cassandra's next child – a girl, a Seer has told us. And the Seer, goodness the terrible things she's seen! But I've trusted Seers for the most of my life, and they never went quite wrong."

Cress nodded, her eyes shifting nervously between the couple, and urged them to go on.

"This vial contains a very important memory that one of our great ancestors own." Hyperion began mournfully. "This memory has been passed down from one Greengrass generation to another. We haven't the faintest clue what it truly contains, for it has never been opened before for it can only be opened under one very important circumstance."

Cassiopeia went on. "The last instruction this vial had before the Greengrass ancestor passed away was that it cannot be opened by anyone other than the Greengrass descendant victimized by a great illness."

"A great illness?" Cress asked nervously. "What kind of illness? Is it a common one, like dragon pox or fey fever?"

Hyperion shook his head, his expression hardening. "It is much worse than any kind of illness, child."

Cress put a hand to her mouth to hide her gasp, her eyes widening fearfully as she looked at the vial in her hand. "What could possibly be worse than any known illness to man?"

"It is unknown. But it is dark, dark magic, I presume. Very dark magic that not even the Dark Lord could have possibly conjured. Old, dark magic. Terrifying. Just absolutely terrifying." Cassiopeia said in a small voice as tears began to brim her brown eyes. "Ooh, when Hyperion told me the story of it all. It's vile. It's the most terrible thing. And the Seer… the Seer who spoke of Cassandra's second child!"

"Do you mean to say that…" Cress's voice trembled, her eyes as wide as saucers now. "This vial's never been opened? Whatever illness hardly resurfaced within the previous Greengrasses, and you're telling me now that… Cassandra's second child… the girl you say the Seer has mentioned… could it be?"

A cold, harsh shiver ran down Astoria's spine as she too felt hot tears blurring her entire vision.

"It's what's been told!" Cassiopeia blew her nose on a hanky as Hyperion patted her back.

"The Greengrasses have trusted Seers for generations, for we've been descended greatly from the Greeks who trust their Seers regarding the future of our family." Hyperion said darkly. "If what the Seer we've spoken to said is true..."

"This illness…" Cress said in a small voice, her features askew in absolute terror. "Is it most deadly?"

Cassiopeia began to sob loudly onto her husband's shoulder, and Hyperion pulled her close.

"Indeed." Hyperion's voice cracked considerably, and Cassiopeia cried so deafeningly; Astoria was surprised nobody from the ballroom heard them. "Cressida, it is very important that you keep this memory under lock and key. After all, it is most commonly told that a female Greengrass is dangerous among the family."

"Why, specifically, a female Greengrass?" Cress asked; her face now as white as ash. "You now have a female Greengrass! Sweet Daphne! And then you say Cassandra is to give birth to another girl!"

"We only know what has been passed to us for generations. If we could open the memory ourselves and find out the truth, we would." Hyperion said, his eyes drifting towards the vial. "We cannot open it, as much as we wish to. It's guarded by an ancient spell that can only be used by the Greengrass ailed by the illness. It is most imperative that Cassandra's second child must have this memory should a great illness come upon her. The Seer… the things she's seen."

"Oh, my poor granddaughter!" Cassiopeia wailed, and Astoria felt her entire body tremble as she, too, was heaving great tears of her own. "Hardly even born and already damned by an ancestral curse! The horror! _The cruelty of it all_. Why? Oh, sweet Merlin, why?"

The grave conversation was cut short by the sound of two doors opening, and from the left – Astoria could see her parents walking out hurriedly; their eyes full of fear as they watched Hyperion and Cassiopeia sob before Cress who was bawling just as well. Cress hid the vial in her purse hastily, trying her very best to recover.

Already, Astoria could see a small bump on her mother, Cassandra's, abdomen. _That's me_ , Astoria thought to herself horridly. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries, her entire body greatly weakening at what she had just seen and heard.

But before she could hear the argument that had started between her parents and grandparents, Astoria's vision blurred and her mind now completely muddled as the voices began to fade away.

Then, in an instant, she collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving floor before her line of vision was engulfed by darkness.

* * *

 **A/N:** A bit of a short chapter, but I simply wanted to put it out there that Astoria's curse **will** be explored in this fanfic! I feel like her curse makes her the person she is (the good kind), and I would not have wanted it any other way. Her blood malediction has its reasons and interesting history. What do you think might have caused the blood curse in the Greengrass line? And why, specifically, a _female_ Greengrass? I'd love to hear your thoughts so feel free to leave a **review** and/or **favorite/follow** this story!

Happiest of New Years to everyone! I shall see you all again in a week.  
 _EMPG22HoPe_


	16. Chapter 16: Draco

**If I Lose Myself**  
 **by _EMPG22HoPe_**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen: Draco**

 **March 1997**

Draco finally had progress with the Vanishing Cabinet.

He's put everything that could possibly make him vulnerable to the side, including his friends. Since the Hogsmeade incident between Blaise and Theo, Draco had decided that it was about time he stopped running around trying to get a grip of his friend. He's spent the last month worrying about Blaise so much that it had made him forget about fixing the Vanishing Cabinet. He couldn't possibly go two seconds without Pansy running up to him and screeching that Blaise was about to chuck himself off the bloody Astronomy Tower.

But Blaise was in the hospital wing now, a lot longer than he had thought. Apparently Theo had broken both of Blaise's legs when Astoria _specifically_ instructed Daphne and Pansy to keep them separate. That didn't go so well apparently. Now Draco hasn't even visited Blaise in the hospital wing, nor has he talked to Pansy since then. Pansy was persistent, trying to cough up whatever she could from him – but he remained impassive, as he had with other people.

He needed to _focus_.

The Vanishing Cabinet finally worked one Tuesday afternoon at the start of the month when Draco placed a green apple inside and incanted the healing charm. It took a few tries, but in the end; with his wretched heart simply set on the mission the Dark Lord had sent, fear of losing his parents and his life – the green apple disappeared from sight. And only just a few seconds after incanting _Harmonia Nectere Passus_ once more, the green apple had reappeared – only this time, someone had bitten into it.

Aunt Bellatrix must have received the apple. It had been her behind the cabinet's twin in Borgin & Burke's daily to check and see if Draco was doing any good with it. Now, it seemed like he was one step closer to just ending the mission at hand. The back-up plan _could_ work.

Draco wanted to burst with joy. It took most of his self-control not to shake Blaise awake in the hospital wing and tell him what he's done. It felt like the huge weight set upon him had vanished in spite of its momentary feeling. He had done it! And yet, he still had a long way to go. But he rejoiced nonetheless, already feeling lighter than he ever had since the start of the year.

Yet of course, nothing good for long ever happened to Draco since he took the dark mark. There will always be something that would dampen his ego and pride, even in the smallest of package. One package, much to Draco's annoyance, was specifically of poisoned mead.

He'd overheard Millicent and Pansy talking about it over breakfast one morning.

"Yeah, just like I heard it! Dropped dead like a rag doll, the weak Weasel." Millicent chortled between bites of Sheppard's pie as she eyed Pansy. "I'm not surprised, though. He's a menace at Quidditch as he is a menace at getting drunk. What a loser. Gotten himself sent to the hospital wing because of that ol' mead. Slughorn says that it was poisoned mead, but I seriously doubt it."

"Poisoned mead?" Draco asked, his interest piqued as he set his fork down. "What are you talking about, Bulstrode?"

"I see you're talking again." Pansy sneered at him curiously. Draco ignored her.

"Well!" Millicent screeched excitedly as she leaned in from across the table gossipingly. "I've heard that the little loser, Ron Weasley, was sent to the hospital wing a week ago. Still is there till' now, you know? He got himself _poisoned_ by some nasty little mead Professor Slughorn gave him, said some of the professors. But it's hardly believable, isn't it? No, I reckon people just won't admit he's a terrible drunk!"

Draco's heart raced horribly. "Did Slughorn ever mention anything about the mead?"

Millicent shrugged. "Who knows? All he's told the professors was that he got it as a gift, and was about to actually send it off to Professor Dumbledore as a gift itself. Bloody terrifying, ain't it? If the professor had succeeded, by Merlin, Dumbledore wouldn't even be sitting at the great table this very _second_. It looks like someone's not pleased to have the old coot running the school. What an awful, though clever assassination attempt, don't you think, Pansy?"

Pansy scoffed at this irritably as she took a bite out of her meal. "I don't bloody care. I just hope that Weasley loser doesn't ever wake up from that blasted induced coma. It's the same thing that happened to Katie Bell. If anything, I'm glad the Gryffindors are being targeted. Although the situation is certainly bad rep for us now. People are beginning to suspect that the Slytherins are behind all this for revenge on the Quidditch matches."

"But Snape's hushed that all up now, hasn't he?" Millicent said defensively before grinning. "Professor Snape, what a great man. The only man that _ever_ really believes us."

Draco scoffed at this, still feeling oddly jittery. _The only man that seems to be stealing my glory_ , he thought bitterly, but he kept that thought to himself. He was still reeling from the news about Weasley, now feeling himself grow smaller at the very thought that all his attempts were becoming feeble wastes.

Before he could get up to give himself some air, block out the sound of people and everything else, his heart tugged downwards when he caught a name amidst Millicent's gossipy rant.

"—and Astoria, too, I heard. Just last night! Pulled out from Dumbledore's office—" But Millicent didn't have enough time to finish when Draco interrupted.

"What about her?" Draco asked gruffly, trying to sound and look disinterested as he poked on his meal, though he tried to meet Millicent's eye using his peripheral. To his greatest relief, Pansy was nowhere to be seen now—most likely have left after having her ear talked off by Bulstrode. The only reason Millicent seemed to be talking was because she thought Draco was still listening.

"Well, haven't you heard?" Millicent asked, wide-eyed as she scooped bits of mash in her mouth. "Astoria was in Dumbledore's office last night, Merlin knows why. And then I heard she just _collapsed_! I mean, I knew she was sickly, poor thing—but to be headed off to the hospital wing looking green! It's a travesty! Mum says I should be pulled out from school, you know. All these students getting cursed and everything, and unprecedented collapsing—"

"Do they know why that happened?" Draco frowned, trying to hide his concern but failing miserably. It felt like he was having one problem pile up after another now. "Why she collapsed, that is?"

"Who knows? One minute she was talking to Dumbledore, the next she's out of it." Millicent shrugged before raising a brow at him. "Why are you so concerned anyway? Didn't Pansy to tell you to come off her?"

Draco hadn't the time to answer her, because the moment his heart felt like clawing off his chest, he leapt from his seat and hobbled out of the Great Hall. He fidgeted with his tie nervously as he rushed up the stone staircases towards the seventh floor. His anxiety grew even more fervent when the stairs kept changing bloody lanes.

But by the time that he had gotten to the seventh floor, he was feeling wheezy, and not just from the confusing staircases. His entire body shook violently, his shirt now drenched with sweat as if he was drowning in a pool of his own recklessness. The matter of the fact is; he actually was.

Of course the bloody misfortune had to be the great fact that Slughorn had to be the one professor that got the mead from Rosmerta. And yet, how could it have gone all wrong? Draco didn't think Slughorn would be stupid enough not to follow orders, imperiused or not. Yet, there they were now – the poisoned mead plan gone down the drain. Despite his certain dislike for the Weasley involved, he hadn't exactly meant to hurt him to the point of having him bedridden and comatose just like he'd accidentally done to Katie Bell.

 _This is not the bloody time to feel guilty!_ Draco groaned at himself in frustration as he purposefully made his way down the corridor where the Room of Requirement would be.

And yet, it wasn't just the failed poisoned mead that was getting to him now. Draco didn't how know it'd be connected, but he felt a pang of guilt that perhaps he had something to do with Astoria collapsing as well. He couldn't pin point how, but somehow every little problem that crops up with the students ate at him as if it had all been his fault.

Deciding he didn't have the energy to go back to the Room of Requirement to continue repairing the cabinet, he made a beeline for the nearest boy's bathroom. To his luck, it was empty of students. He turned on his heel and cast a Locking Spell on the door before he made great strides towards the nearest sink.

For the first time in a very long time, Draco found himself slipping from the very edge and sitting on the cold, hard ground. A sob escaped his lips this time, hot tears streaking down his cheeks as his hands wringed and fisted themselves angrily against his white blonde locks.

He felt the world falling in on him. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what kind of plan he comes up with—it's always going to crop up to fail. The necklace, the mead; he was almost certain they would work. That perhaps, he'd feel _less guilty_ if he killed Dumbledore indirectly. That he didn't have to point his wand and cast his first killing curse at the only man that the Dark Lord feared the most. But even as he did them, he knew it would all come down to one thing.

He had to let the Death Eaters in, just as planned. He would try to kill Dumbledore right before their eyes if he could help it. And maybe, if he couldn't, if he couldn't utter the words that he feared would come out of his mouth; maybe, just maybe, one of the Death Eaters would do him the favor. For some reason, he didn't mind if they took all the credit.

And yet, what would that do to his family? If the Dark Lord found out that he didn't kill Dumbledore himself, he would kill him and his parents. The Dark Lord made quite sure of it from the nightmares that he was inducing for the past few nights. Nightmares of his mother being tortured, and whether or not they were true made him fear the worst. He dared not to think the other end of it if the Dark Lord decides to just kill his mother right then and there.

His body wracked with sobs now, pulling his arms closer to his chest—as if that would protect him from the harsh reality that was crashing right before his eyes.

"I can't do it…" He said between convulsive gaps. "I can't…"

"What can't you do?" The shrill voice of a girl asked him.

Draco leapt in surprise, searching the bathroom wildly before his eyes fell upon a transparent-like figure floating right in front of him. There sat before him was a ghostly girl. She had her black hair in pigtails and wore thick-rimmed glasses. A curios look came upon her as she swished her Hogwarts robes aside.

"W-who are you?" Draco asked feverishly as he tried to wipe the tears off his damp face. He never quite liked the ghosts at Hogwarts. They had an off feeling to them, and his fear was warped more with the thought that he could be a ghost himself soon if he didn't buck up and do what the Dark Lord wants.

"I'm Myrtle. Myrtle Warren." The ghost replied, looking offended as though he ought to have known who she was. "I heard you crying, muttering to yourself. What can't you do?"

There was a calm look about her, a mournful, morose look that made Draco sympathize with her. For some reason, he found himself voicing his troubles, "Something important… something that would threaten me unless I do it… But I can't… I tried everything I could but it just won't work. He won't stop until I do it."

Myrtle nodded with pursed lips. "Oh, you're being bullied, aren't you? I used to be bullied too. Olive Hornby always liked making fun of my glasses. She made my school years terrible. I used to always run to the bathroom and cry and hope she'd just go away. People can be very terrible sometimes. But I suppose we can't help it, the way they are, who they are…"

Draco nodded as he looked down at his hands absent-mindedly, still weeping as tears met the palm of his hands. "Yeah, I guess you can say that… _bullied_."

It was an odd feeling admitting it out loud, but that really did seem to be the case. The Dark Lord was bullying him, but it was far worse than some childish pettiness between school mates. It meant his life and his parents. He wasn't sure if he should tell Myrtle that. It's not like she'd blab on to the next ghost. Still, he kept the thought to himself.

"Why is he bullying you anyway?" Myrtle asked morosely.

Draco inhaled sharply. "Because he's just that way, I suppose. But I have my suspicions. My mother doesn't think I don't know why, but I do. He thinks I'll fail just like my father, that I'll disappoint him and… and he may be right."

He pressed his hands on his eyes, keening now as his body shivered uncontrollably. If only he had the guts, if only he could do better—but twice is enough of an embarrassment, thrice is just too much. There was no other way. He had to kill Dumbledore, or risk his family's life. And what's one life to three others? Surely, it'd be justifiable… surely it wouldn't be so bad… it was just a flick of a wand now, wasn't it? Maybe it wouldn't matter if he kept his eyes closed while he did it…

"I'm sure you can find a way to do it." Myrtle told him lowly. "Back then, I didn't have many friends. You look like a bloke that has loads of them. Maybe you can ask for their help."

Draco choked in his attempt to laugh humorlessly. If only it were that easy now, wasn't it? The last time he tried to involve his friends; he had to sacrifice time with them instead of focusing on the Vanishing Cabinet. When he told Snape that he had people helping him, he only meant to say it to shove the professor off. He didn't really have anyone, save for using Crabbe and Goyle as lookouts. But that's hardly any help to what he's been stretching himself to do.

Rosmerta might be considered "help" since she's been the one giving off the items that could hopefully get to Dumbledore, but it was also a wasteful use of the Imperius curse now that he thought about it.

"Believe me, they'll only mess it up further," Draco replied harshly, thinking how bad it would have gone if he got Blaise and Pansy involved further. No, they were better off away from all of that. And even if he wanted to, he knew the Dark Lord would have threatened to kill them too if they tried. He wasn't going to risk it. "He'll only hurt them like he's done me. I'm not stupid enough to pull them in anymore than they already are."

"He sounds worse than Olive Hornby," Myrtle sighed mournfully before she rested her head on her bent knees. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

Draco scoffed, not wanting to hear her pity, but it was appreciated; all the same. If only Myrtle knew who he was talking about, but no… He couldn't risk the ghost too. She may be dead already, but the Dark Lord could do so much more—and ghosts wouldn't be so far off his list if he could help it.

"That's what he wants, I suppose," The ghost went on. "He wants you to feel more alone, compress yourself to not having anyone around, feel you cut off from everyone else. Because if it's just you alone, you're not so much of a threat—you'd be much easier to bully."

A brief look of shock crossed his features. His eyes flitted towards her robes and caught the eagle patch sewed onto the cloth. Of course he was talking to a Ravenclaw. Dead or alive, Myrtle made much sense. If he could just tone down his pride… but no… he couldn't risk it. He knew better than to do that. This was his problem, and his alone.

For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like dragging anyone down with him.

"I'm Draco," He finally said after the pregnant silence that followed Myrtle's inquisitiveness.

"You ought not to cry so much like me, Draco," Myrtle smiled toothily. "It's a waste on such a handsome face like yours."

Draco laughed dryly, and felt his troubles slowly ebb—though they still lingered like a tattoo that didn't seem like it would go away any time soon.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ah, I've always been curious as to how Draco managed to be sort of "friends" with Myrtle during his sixth year. This seemed to be the only way I could imagine them meeting properly. What did you guys think of the chapter? I apologize if it was fairly short, but I promise that the next couple of chapters will be a tad bit longer! Plus, we're at the half way point of the first part of the story. Around February, we'll be exploring the second part which happens to be Draco and Astoria's during the war. I'd love to hear what your expectations are for Part Two of "If I Lose Myself"! Sound off in the reviews and do favorite/follow the story for weekly updates.

See you next week!  
 _EMPG22HoPe_


	17. Chapter 17: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself**

 **by _EMPG22HoPe_**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen: Astoria**

 **April 1997**

 _A great illness…_

 _It's much worse than any kind of illness, child…_

 _But it is dark, dark magic, I presume…_

 _Very dark magic that not even the Dark Lord could have possibly conjured…_

 _Old, dark magic…_

 _And the Seer… the Seer who spoke of Cassandra's second child!_

 _It is most commonly told that a female Greengrass is dangerous among the family…_

 _The Seer… the things she's seen…_

It was on a bleak Saturday afternoon when a certain witch gave a great gasp from a bed within the hospital wing. Its occupant, Astoria Greengrass, wretched and heaved large breaths after bolting awake at last from where she laid. Her eyes swept the space, feeling feverish as she fumbled for something in her clean, white robes. Memories of the time before darkness consumed her came flashing before her eyes.

The pensieve… Cassiopeia and Hyperion Greengrass… Aunt Cressida…

"Astoria!" came the loud cry of a familiar blonde Astoria had not even realized was beside her.

Daphne rubbed the sleep off her eyes furtively as she scrambled to sit on the side of the younger Greengrass's bed. "Oh, thank Merlin you're _alright!_ I thought we'd lost you and—oh, Astoria!"

Astoria was pushed back by the great force to which Daphne had entrapped her in a tight and sobbing hug. She patted the blonde's back carefully, shushing her gently before Daphne finally pulled away; tears streaming down her bright, green eyes.

"How long have I been away?" Astoria croaked weakly, feeling her throat close up in dryness.

Daphne hurried to take the empty goblet on Astoria's bedside table, muttered a quick _Aguamenti_ before offering it to her. As Astoria took large, grateful gulps of the water, Daphne answered her.

"It's been a month, actually! You woke up just in time. It's Easter in two weeks' time. Mum and dad wants us to come home, especially you. Mum was livid you hadn't been sent to St. Mungo's like that Katie Bell girl. She was worried sick!" Daphne's reply came in rapid-fire words, as if bursting with all the information of a single month to explode. "Mum and dad came, of course, but they're back at home. They just visited you last week and brought you some sweets! Dad's even thinking we shouldn't attend Hogwarts next year with all that's been happening—"

"Alright, slow down, Daph. I'm alright now, see?" Astoria jested softly, now being able to speak her normal, though weary, voice as she offered a little smile. "I don't know what's happened, though. Could you please tell me? One minute I was with Professor Dumbledore, just leaving Aunt Cress's pensieve memory when I suddenly blacked out."

"Oh, it was dreadful!" Daphne said tearfully as she wiped away her wet cheeks with a hanky. "When Dumbledore brought you here a month ago, you were green all over. You were producing symptoms of both dragon pox and Spattergroit! You had purple pustules all over your face and your skin had green and purple rashes! We thought, oh _goodness_." Daphne sobbed some more before she went on breathlessly. "We thought you were done for! But mercy, you've only had those symptoms for a week. Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey's potions worked like a charm, but you weren't waking up. I thought, I _really_ thought we lost you…"

Daphne cried into her hands, unable to meet Astoria's gaze. Astoria felt her heart drop to her stomach. This was what she feared the most; worrying her family senseless with all these abnormal illnesses taking its toll on her. Even more so now that she's discovered what was truly behind her illness... well, not fully, but she understood the background of it all.

Once Astoria had let her sister recover, she immediately delved into telling her the memory that she saw in Dumbledore's pensieve. Daphne reacted seamlessly at all the right times, looking very frightful when she mentioned _dark magic_ as if it was worse than the taboo of saying the Dark Lord's name.

Retelling the tale, and hearing herself say it out loud made it even more real than the pensieve memory she's seen. It was as if she could feel the walls closing in on her, dooming her to an eternity of the unknown of her illness. The only solution, the only end to it all, was—as she remembered— _deadly_. Whatever she had, whatever what was ailing her; she knew one thing's for certain: it would kill her.

That, perhaps, seemed to be the only detail she left from her story. Astoria couldn't bear to tell her sister that the very thing that's making her constantly sick would eventually lead to her death. She didn't have the heart to, when her sister looked so close to tears again simply hearing it all.

When she was finally through with her tale, Daphne looked stricken, mumbling aimlessly to herself—trying to repeat everything that Astoria had just told her. Her green eyes met similar green ones all of a sudden.

"Aunt Cress! Merlin, I've forgotten. She's written to you!" Daphne stood up once more to search the side table. "She's got one for me too, but I haven't opened yours."

This time, Astoria turned to find that table filled with boxes upon boxes of Honeydukes sweets, mostly from Luna and her parents. But there was one box that seemed to be untouched, collecting dust on top of its brightly colored lid. But before Astoria could reach for it, Daphne had blocked her view and plucked out a box of chocolate frogs with a piece of parchment taped on top of it.

"I tried to hide it from mum, you know. Just in case she decides to throw it out. Aunt Cress sent it the minute word got out about what happened in the Headmaster's office." Daphne explained before handing her the box.

Astoria looked at the parchment attached to the seemingly innocent box of chocolate frogs, afraid that if she did anything—something awful would happen. But she decided that she's been through worst, so she ripped the tape off the parchment and unfolded it with shaky hands before reading it aloud.

 ** _Astoria_ ,**

 _I owe you an apology for leaving so soon. I was just so scared, for my life and yours. But mostly mine. You have no idea the means your mother would go through to rid me from ever speaking to you and Daphne. I leave this letter to you knowing you deserve an explanation, especially after hearing all the rumors about what happened to you in Professor Dumbledore's office. You are in much danger than I most feared. Oh, if only your mother knew._

 _I have left Great Britain to seek better solace away from your mother. It's not just her I'm worried of, of course. I read the Daily Prophet. Things aren't looking so well, it seems. It's just like the last war, and it's only going to get worst. Assuming you've gone to Dumbledore to view my memories, I hope you still don't think ill of me. I only care for your safety as well as mine._

 _The pensieve memory your grandparents gave me is hidden in my vault at Gringotts. My spare key and permission slip is hidden inside the box of sweets I've sent you. When you have the opportunity, and if my prayers were to be answered that you wake before Easter, take the memory from the vault and see to it on Dumbledore's pensieve. I do not know what lies within that memory, but I can only hope it will enlighten you to find a way to rid yourself of this unfortunate predicament._

 _I do not know when I'll be back, but when I do, I promise you that I'd be much braver, and much stronger than your mother. Forgive me, and tell Daphne I'm sorry._

 _I love you and Daphne very much. Take care of yourselves._

 ** _Aunt Cress_**

Silence ensued between the two sisters as Astoria's eyes flitted across the parchment over and over; rereading the words as if she couldn't believe they even existed. She then hastened to lift the lid off her box of chocolate frogs, rummaging amongst the plastic covered sweets before feeling amongst them a roughly carved metal. Astoria extracted her aunt's Gringotts key and allowed it to shine under the afternoon sun that bled through the crossed windows of the hospital wing.

"It's really in there?" Daphne finally asked, staring at the key as though it were a dungbomb ready to set off. "The… the memory… the one our grans gave her?"

"There's only one way to find out." Astoria replied gravely before tucking the key back inside the box. After doing so, she took a frog, offered one to Daphne before ripping up the plastic off one of them.

Their frogs wriggled in their grasps but slackened when the two sisters bit off the heads silently.

"You know what this means, do you?" Daphne asked as she put her frog down, looking very determined now. "We can finally figure out how to get rid of this blasted illness of yours! There's bound to be an answer in there that the Healers never would have thought of, right?"

"I hope so," Astoria nodded as she quickly finished off her frog, ready to open another packet. "I'm just terrified of what I'll see. I mean, I haven't even seen the other memory Aunt Cress gave me. There were two. I only opened the first one, but I had collapsed before I could even ask to view the second one."

"Oh, I remember that! I took your robes back to your room. The other one's safely tucked in your drawer." Daphne said excitedly. "What do you reckon is inside of it?"

"I'm not sure. I'll find out soon once I get a word in with the professor." Astoria mumbled as she bit off the head of her frog once more.

Daphne nodded before her once bright look turned pale. The blonde bit her bottom lip as if desperate to say something, only to hold herself back—relieving herself into saying something else. "Draco came over, by the way."

Astoria nearly choked on her sweet, retching from the uninvited chocolate before she cleared her throat and looked at Daphne curiously. "What's he come over for?"

Draco Malfoy had not crossed her mind in a long time until now. In the entire month of which Astoria had been asleep, she had thought and dreamt of nothing but the memory that she watched—playing over and over again in her dreams. With the memory replaying, she tried her best to find a clue on what her illness could possibly be. But all she could think of was dark magic unforeseen to this day, and she reckoned none of the restricted section books would give her much comfort once she pursued her search for answers.

The last time Astoria spoke to Draco, it hadn't been one that was remotely pleasant. Whatever Draco couldn't tell her for the sake of saving her life bothered her until now. What was so revealing that Draco had to hide it to save her? It's not like she wasn't already in any danger on her own, what, with her unfortunate illness that crops up every now and then. A part of her just wished he could trust her with it. But she knew there was no point in persuading him once he's made up his mind.

She could only hope he was not in any serious danger the way she had suspected the moment she saw him at Diagon Alley before the start of the school year.

"He wanted to give you that," Daphne pointed at the box that had been collecting dust. It was smaller than all the others in the shape of an octagon. The blonde reached for it with disgust before handing it to Astoria.

Astoria blew off the dust away from Daphne. Once it's been cleaned off, Astoria couldn't help but smile sadly as she opened the lid. There were about six chocoballs wrapped in golden foil. The memory of Astoria offering him a chocoball during their first tutoring came to her, filling her with comforting warmth.

Resting upon the sweets was a small, vague but nevertheless comforting note with Draco's signature on it.

 _Feel better._

 ** _\- DM_**

"He only came once to give you that. I reckon he comes along whenever I'm not around, but Madame Pomfrey reveals nothing." Daphne shook her head with a slight smirk on her lips. "You may have scared the living daylights out of him, but you sure left an effect that certainly rattled the egotistical prat in him."

Astoria sighed worriedly. "I just wish I knew what was going on with him. He looks really troubled and he's changed so much in the last few months… you know, _physically_. I'm really worried about him."

Daphne hummed in agreement before biting bits off her chocolate frog then scoffing in disdain, "Men. What a load of waffles."

* * *

Astoria's search for the answers to her unnerving illness had gone full throttle throughout Easter. Though, it was not without trying her first easier option, which was to withdraw the pensieve memory that her grandparents had given to Cressida from her aunt's Gringott's vault. It was much to Astoria's dismay, however, that she wasn't allowed to withdraw from another's vault, regardless if they had a permission slip, while she was underaged. Daphne doesn't turn seventeen until September, and thus—it was a dead end.

While she could have easily asked an adult, or even her father, to withdraw it for her—the permission slip was under her name, and thus, made it an impossible feat to retrieve the vial until two years later. Aunt Cress, apparently, had failed to mention that age restrictions were very uncompromising at Gringotts.

So she settled, for the time being, for books connecting to any ancient illnesses—spending most of her Easter money on books bought from book shops at Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, even after a week, it seemed just as much as a dead end as trying to withdraw the pensieve memory.

It was also in Easter that Astoria had hoped that once she came home that she would be a little more enlightened by her parents about Aunt Cress's pensieve memory once she's told them. A part of her hoped that they would see differently, that her mother would be a little more lenient with her than Aunt Cress. That, of course, she thought wrong on her mother's part.

When Astoria told her parents about the pensieve memory, Cepheus Greengrass seemed concerned and had given her some comfort that he would look into it further. If there was anyone more mastered with possessions of books regarding the dark arts, it was her father. Cassandra Greengrass was otherwise livid, even more so towards her husband. But if there was anyone that had a better hold of the family, it was her father. Her mother could do nothing but take it out on Astoria by berating her for believing Cressida.

The only thing that Astoria kept from her parents was the part where she possesses her aunt's Gringotts key to where the vial her grandparents passed on is hidden. A part of her felt that if she told her parents, especially her mother, they would interfere immediately—taking action and the vial for themselves. She felt that that vial to be her birthright. Although even if her parents attempted to possess the vial, it wouldn't open for them.

The vial, after all, could only be opened by the Greengrass unfortunate enough to inherit the illness.

"Cressida has been nothing but a _curse_ to this family since day one," Cassandra hissed irritably as she shot the day's _Daily Prophet_ down on the table one breakfast morning. "Astoria, dear, you have to understand that your aunt has done nothing but pile one lie after another in your head. Pensieve memory… what rubbish…"

" _Lies_?" Astoria asked defiantly this time. Over the course of her days at Greengrass manor, she has done nothing but become docile towards her mother's advances against Cressida. But that day seemed to have drawn the line for her, especially with her growing fever that's piqued since last night. "Who in their bloody right mind would _lie_ about what I just told you? Do you have _any_ idea what that sounds like? An illness contrived by _dark magic_. It checks out! The Healers don't know what's wrong with me because what's causing my illness… it's old magic!"

"No!" Cassandra slammed her fist on the table this time, causing Daphne, who sat beside Astoria, to cower back into her seat. "I will _not_ have you speak of dark magic in this house! Your father may be lenient when he's here, but I forbid you to even _think_ it even when he isn't! Your aunt has done nothing but ruin the very fabric of this family. No doubt that pensieve memory has been tampered with. Do you not realize how that's even possible?"

"I just think that it's so _awfully_ convenient for you to kick her out when I started showing symptoms of my illness when I first came to Hogwarts!" Astoria stood this time, knocking her seat back loudly. "She knew! _You knew_. If you had just listened to her—"

"I will **not** be spoken to like this!" Cassandra bellowed haughtily this time, standing up. "Cressida and her conspiracies—"

"You're actually so narrow-minded to think she's protruding _conspiracies_?" Astoria replied scathingly. "This is my **life** , mother! Have you no shred of care for what could possibly be—"

"There is _nothing_ to it!" Cassandra was red with anger. "Your immune system is simply **weak** , and that is the end of it. I will not consort to this wishy-washy tale of an ancient illness since the start of time. I refuse to believe it! Now, if you still wish to remain in this family—you will do as I say and drop this fantasy of yours and settle for more important matters!"

Astoria bit her tongue this time. It was quite natural for her mother to threaten to disown her. It wouldn't be the first time as Astoria had always been the very definition of a _blood traitor_ —something her mother was quite ashamed of. Eventually, Cassandra dropped the idea of ever convincing her otherwise about how muggles and muggle-borns were scum—but there was a fire to her mother's voice now that indicated she meant this notion seriously.

"Mother, please," Daphne spoke this time, though with little conviction to her voice as it wavered. "If you could just see the memory… speak to Professor Dumbledore…"

Cassandra sighed tiredly, running a frustrated hand through her blonde locks. "Daphne, sweetheart, not you too. Look what you've done now, Astoria! You've corrupted your own sister as well. How much more damage can Cassandra do to this family?"

"The only damage this family has is your fanatical belief that your own sister is out to ruin us." Astoria replied impatiently, feeling her face burn. She was rarely angry at anyone, but if there was one person that truly made her blood boil—it was her mother. "If you don't believe me,then that's no longer my problem _._ But I am going to find out the truth one way or another. I refuse to sit around and put my faith on my own mother who cares little for my life."

Cassandra looked as if Astoria had struck her to the face. She paled briefly, her brows furrowing worriedly, "Astoria, of course I care for your life—"

" _Please_ , **spare** me." Astoria spat as she turned on her heels this time, trudging angrily out of the dining hall. She spun briefly to give her mother one last scathing look. "First, Luna. Now this. When will it end, mother?"

A part of her was pleased to see her mother suddenly look as if she had lost the upper hand, but took no pleasure in it further—for Astoria had already left the room in search for more answers.

What was her illness? Why was it doing such horrible, wretched things to her? Was it a curse? Whoever had done it was no friend to the Greengrasses. And Astoria was going to find out who and what, one way or another. Even if it meant meeting death himself for the truth.

* * *

 **A/N:** If you aren't already familiar: yes, we _will_ be exploring the curious history behind Astoria's canonical **blood malediction**. I just quite hated how J.K. Rowling barely explained the reason behind her blood curse, but then again-that gives me fanfiction writers like me the freedom to imagine what it's like. Also, I'd like to apologize if anyone's noticing-though thankfully no one has complained yet-that the recent chapters have been lacking of Draco and Astoria-centric chapters. This story has always been intended to explore **both** their stories before, during and after the war; and I like being as precise and fair on each of their individual character developments. But fear not! Only a chapter or so more before they can _finally_ speak to each other once more. :3

Do you have any theories as to what happened to Astoria's ancestor? And how genuinely sweet was it that despite everything that's happened between Draco and Astoria, Draco still had the heart to visit her? Let me know your thoughts in the reviews! Please make sure to favorite or follow this story if you enjoyed it and wish to receive more updates!

See you next week!  
 ** _EMPG22HoPe_**


	18. Chapter 18: Draco

**If I Lose Myself**

 **by _EMPG22HoPe_**

 ** _Trigger Warning:_** _Chapter includes mention and sight of blood. Caution is advised if you're uncomfortable reading such._

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen: Draco**

 **May 1997**

Just when he had thought he had it within his grasp, it disappeared between the slits of his fingers like running sand.

Draco was certain the Vanishing Cabinet had done well in the past month, but certainly not enough. Apart from the cabinet suddenly having mood swings of its own by suddenly not being able to work for whatever reason, he had resorted once more to thinking of other ways to kill Dumbledore. He had hope that the cabinet would be enough, that someone else would do it for him—but the impending threat of the Dark Lord on his family and himself grew stronger every day. Sometimes, he felt as if the Dark Lord could read through his mind, wind through his dreams. But it couldn't be possible, and he can only hope it wouldn't be—or all of those precious times at Hogsmeade being tortured by aunt with Occlumency will have been all for naught.

As if the pressure of the cabinet wasn't enough for Draco. Fate, it seemed, had a funny way of making his life incredibly miserable now. And for a moment, he was slowly regretting every transgression he's ever done if it meant to be safe from the desperately anxious way his life had winded up to now.

Katie Bell had just emerged alive and well from St. Mungo's. It didn't take much for Draco's guilt to resurface. It was _blooming_ the moment she entered the Great Hall. And he overheard things, of course. He overheard Katie's conversation with Potter. And it struck him, nervously, how her eyes shifted towards him for a moment as if she knew what he had done.

And thus here he was once more, sobbing himself senseless in the boys' bathroom where, not surprisingly as of late, Moaning Myrtle seemed to be waiting upon his arrival.

Over the past month, he had come to find some bit of solace from the ghostly girl. They spoke of the same challenges, the same "bullies" that made their life miserable. But if only Myrtle knew that his bully wasn't just some petty teenage girl out to play mean-spirited fun at another girl. His was much worst; and it pained him to know that nobody that he wasn't related to knew the **gravity** of the situation he was in.

He wished someone knew. He wished he could tell someone. But who? He certainly couldn't tell it full to Blaise, who Draco had long abandoned asking for help since the scuffle at Hogsmeade with the Greengrasses and Nott. He couldn't tell Pansy, who would—he assumes—otherwise would encourage him to do it rather than give him any sort of comfort. He already knows that if he were to tell anyone he knew—perhaps aside from Blaise—about it, they'd only tell him to do what was necessary. That they would tell him to be proud, just like his aunt has.

Perhaps a small part of him wished someone could tell him he didn't have to do it.

Then he thought of Astoria.

Astoria, who was compassionate and carefree, and wouldn't judge. She was the girl who so openly sought to help him, who didn't care what he had done, who only cared deeply for his well-being. And yet she was also Astoria, who was innocent, young, and too put together to be pulled into this madness. Draco could not live with himself if he ever subjected her to his own cursed life. He knew, as much as anyone else does, that she deserves better than him—better than anything terrible in this world. For Astoria was so good, so kind. How could that kind of light illuminate the dark that he's hidden himself into?

His body wracked with sobs as his thoughts diverted into things he couldn't have, the freedom so harshly taken from his grasp. It was turning him weary, his worst fears coming to light all of a sudden. How could he ensure his parents' survival if he couldn't even ensure his own?

His pale hands clutched the edges of the sink harshly, digging his nails into the basin as if to hope it would injure him—make him feel any pain other than the one that consumed him.

"Don't," Myrtle warbled. "Don't cry, Draco… tell me what's wrong… I can help you…"

Myrtle had been under the illusion that she could, perhaps, find a way to help him with the Vanishing Cabinet; as he had so openly discussed with her over the past month. But not even a ghost whose past long and has known the castle's secret for many years could help him. Despite all the books she's read and all the advices… It seemed that no one is able to give him the assistance he needs.

"No one can help me," Draco whimpered, every nerve of his body shaken by the very thought indeed. He was all alone. "I can't do it… I can't… it won't work… and unless I do it soon… he says he'll kill me…"

Though before another set of cries could escape him, he looked up furtively into the mirror and was taken by shock at the sight of Harry Potter staring at him through the glass. Before he knew it, he had his wand out and immediately sent a hex to his back.

The hex shattered uselessly, missing Harry by a hair. A flash of light emitted from Harry's wand, and before it could hit him, he hastily blocked the spell wordlessly.

Everything seemed to be a blur of missed hexes and jinxes. He could hear Myrtle crying for them to stop. Every bit of weakness and sense of self-doubt left him the moment he set eyes on Potter. His hatred for him fueled in a way that it has never done in so many years. It had always just been petty hatred, but now—it was utmost indignation unlike any other.

The burn in him fueled considerably, and thought long and hard in the midst of the scuffle before attempting, "Cruci—"

But his voice was immediately overpowered by a spell he has never heard of. Draco felt his skin open up, and the burn from inside resided into his cheeks, his neck, his arms, his chest—he looked down before staggering backwards in both pain and shock. He was bleeding everywhere. He was then knocked back, slipping onto the waterlogged floor and hitting his body against the ground with a loud splash.

It was pain unlike any other. Immeasurable. It was not like the Cruciatus curse, but he could bet anything this came just as close—only more physically, more vividly. His vision swam as he heard Harry's voice and Myrtle's wails. Then he heard another set of footsteps splash into the room.

His eyes flitted for what little he could see left, and was met with the greasy-haired Professor Snape. He chanted a spell in a song-like notion, and at once, he felt his wounds close up—but they seared impenetrably, as though they would scar. But that mattered little to him. There were worst things than scars.

Draco felt himself hefted up by the arm, making his head spin as he stood up weakly on his feet. He could hear Snape speak to him, but only managed to catch a couple of words.

 _Hospital wing… scarring… dittany_ …

Although before he could process it, he was already being dragged out of the bathroom. He did little to slacken in Snape's hold, but made his best effort to move his aching feet. It felt as if every step was a taste of the Cruciatus curse on random parts of his body.

There were several gasps as they passed corridors, and for a moment—he thought he heard Astoria and Pansy's cry as they passed, but Draco was practically sightless at this point; focusing merely on his feet as they took one painful step after the other.

The last thing he heard, before he last saw himself flanged against a hospital bed were resounding, hasty footsteps and the voices of two girls crying for his name before all went black.

* * *

For the most part of May, Draco had been immobile. After the curse that Potter had sent him earlier in the month, he had been stuck in the hospital wing mending his wounds. As it turns out, there was some definitive scarring. Whenever Madame Pomfrey wasn't standing over him like a tittering Cornish pixie, he finds himself glimpsing the white scars that had formed across his chest, abdomen, some parts of his arms, his legs—and Merlin forbid he was ever aided with a mirror during his unfortunate stay to look at his face.

During such time, he was visited by a number of people. First, there was Pansy—who came in the moment word spread that he'd awaken from his week of having been out. Then came Blaise, who had been company, but was otherwise far too distracted in other things to worry much about Draco's condition. To his utter surprise, however—the only company he deemed the slightest bit comforting was Crabbe and Goyle—two of the people he least expected to feel any semblance of care for.

They updated him, mostly, on what's been going around at Hogwarts. They didn't question him just as much as they did since he started using them as look outs from when he was mending the Vanishing Cabinet. The two thick heads even managed a joke or two; and a weak laugh would come from Draco every now and then for their humor.

But was it really much of a time to reconcile? A time to show remorse when he had been so close? A month has passed and it's been wasted staying in the hospital wing, when he could have spent all those days in the Room of Requirement doing what he must to ensure the back up for his mission—for he was truly running out of options.

On the night before Draco's release from the hospital wing on the morrow, Pansy visited him again. She made it quite a habit to visit him on a daily basis that it was almost impossible for some of his visitors to come across him alone. Like every other day, she carried green pansies with her to replace the ones she had brought from her last visit on the white vase next to his bed's table ladened with gifts from his mother and friends.

Pansy frowned as she clutched the bouquet of pansies in her hands, her eyes boring holes into what appeared to be an already filled white vase.

Draco hauled himself up all of a sudden. The vase had been discarded of the green pansies and was now replaced with an assorted color of vibrant asters. They seem to be in full bloom and danced happily, despite the lack of wind within the room, as if charmed to stay that way. His mood lightened considerably, though, when he looked at them a little longer. It brought a bit more light in the coming dusk.

"Who sent you those?" Pansy asked accusingly, snapping the stems of the flowers she brought; though she didn't seem to have realized she'd done it. "Awfully disgusting set of… whatever on earth are they, anyway?"

"Asters," Draco answered dismissively now, tearing his eyes off the set. "It's probably the matron's idea. She's annoyingly maternal."

Pansy sneered, brandishing her wand to levitate the asters out of the vase. But it appeared that whatever spell she tried, the flowers did little to leave the home of the white vase. It danced happily still, as if mocking Pansy for even trying.

"Ugh, they're repulsive. I'll have her take it down before dinner." Pansy scoffed, having no choice but to settle her own flowers on top of the mounds of gifts and sweets. Even in comparison, the asters seemed more bright and cheerful than the now dreadful-looking pansies, much like the girl who was named after them. "Honestly, _asters_ …"

"What do you want now, Pansy?" Draco asked firmly, leaning back on his sheets. "I don't reckon it's to give me hugs and kisses."

Pansy's attention wavered to him this time. "Well, perhaps, but…"

A tired sigh escaped Pansy's lips. All of her visits had been mostly to check on his condition, coo over him like some kind of child having just discovered a new toy, and berate him endlessly for being reckless—as if he hadn't gotten that much berating from his mother. It would have been less painful for him if his mother and Pansy had just sent him a howler instead of the constant, everyday scolding.

"Look, I know you don't want to tell me what's going on with you; as with Blaise," Pansy started, looking down at her hands as she fidgeted with them. "But if you could just trust me, Draco. Whatever it is. I want to help you."

"You can't help me with this one, Pansy." Draco replied plainly, as he's had about a thousand times over every time Pansy visited to tell him the very same sentiments repeatedly. "No one can. I have to do it alone. I can't involve you, or Blaise, or anyone else directly."

"But you'd let Astoria do it." Pansy mumbled, meeting his gaze this time with a conniving look in her eyes. "You'd let little Greengrass do just whatever with you."

Draco was affronted. Pansy had never mentioned Astoria ever since the incident at Hogsmeade. Like Daphne, they avoided the younger Greengrass's name like the plague as well. It had worked a great deal for Pansy, who was more than delighted to talk of other things like their impending wedding after they graduate from Hogwarts or other matters. Until today.

"I haven't spoken to her since Hogsmeade." Draco said indifferently.

It was a white lie. He has spoken to her, though it's not as if it was a particularly active conversation. When Astoria had been confined in the hospital wing after collapsing in the Headmaster's office, Draco made discreet work of scheduling his visit to her. He had only ever visited her once, and it was moreover in the dead of night—after a tiring evening from the Room of Requirement.

He had given her a box of chocoballs—the sweet she first offered to him at the Black Lake—and a vague "get well" note. Then he talked to her while she was asleep, for she had been that way for the majority of her stay in the hospital wing. He told her what he's always wanted to tell her: the truth. With the help of a silencing charm around him, he poured out everything he wish he could have told her—about the Dark Mark, You-Know-Who, the threat on his family, killing Dumbledore.

For a moment, it felt as if the weight had been lifted off him. Then he took one glimpse at Astoria and remembered then how she was asleep, how she couldn't have heard him. And suddenly, that weight returned almost instantly. But it gave him some courage—looking at her then, how peaceful she looked despite all the residue spots from her rumored Spattergroit. Even in sickness, she still looked an angel who was undeserving of him.

"Will you be honest with me?" Pansy asked him, snapping Draco back to the present. He had expected her to be mad at him for drifting off, but it seemed she might have done just that too. Draco nodded his reply, unsure of what to say.

Pansy let out a deep breath before looking weary. "Do you still want to be with me?"

Draco was rendered speechless. He hadn't thought about this moment in a long while. He had been hoping to avoid the conversation, avoid Pansy by all means. He had hoped that his distancing himself would have sent the proper message. But it seemed that while Draco was terribly gifted with the penchant for being as insulting, he knew that even Pansy deserved some bit of truth from him.

After a moment, Draco looked at her tiredly and said, almost like a whisper, "No, Pansy. I don't. I haven't in a long while, and I think you already know."

If his parents knew what he had done—breaking an engagement sealed even before they'd been born—they would have disowned him. But his father was in Azkaban, and his mother was under threat. Breaking an engagement seemed the _very least_ of their problems right now.

He feared to look up to her, but he did—and he was surprised to see her smiling. While it was a somber, almost mournful kind of smile; it was still a smile, nevertheless. It terrified him in the slightest. Pansy rarely smiled in the way she did now. The last time she did, she had been telling him about her father being imprisoned for attacking a muggle.

"I suppose I deserve that," Pansy nodded, pursing her lips briefly—the smile melting off. "What I don't deserve, however, was waiting this long to get a proper answer from you."

"I just…" Draco trailed off, trying to string the right words. "I just think that this hasn't been a very pleasant year. I have things I need to worry about that I don't want you getting involved in. If you were, if you truly knew, he'd—something unpleasant—"

"Is it the Dark Lord?" Pansy asked boldly. "You've boasted about him in the train how you were chosen. For a moment, I thought you had the Dark Mark until I realized it must be. Blaise told me."

Draco grunted. "Of course he did."

"Whatever he's asking you to do, Draco, you must consider it an honor." Pansy proclaimed this time and Draco flinched. "If not an honor, then something you should take to heart, something to take seriously."

"You think I haven't been doing that?!" Draco yelled at her all of a sudden, everything in him ignited by sudden hatred. It was as he had predicted about Pansy. She wouldn't have understood. "You think I've only been moping around, just considering it and not doing _anything_? You have no idea the **lengths** I went through to do his bidding, the **risks** I had to take! You know nothing about it! About whatever honor you want me to have!"

"Then _do_ it!" Pansy shrieked at him, standing up. "For your life, for your safety! Do it, whatever it is! I don't care what you have to do, or who you have to hurt to do it. Nothing else matters anymore, Draco! Do it, please! Or he'll kill you!"

Draco laughed humorlessly. "I think I already know that threat by heart more than you do."

Pansy breathed heavily as she stared at him. "You are a coward, Draco Malfoy."

"Is that all?" Draco asked her testily. "Shall I hear the rest of your little bitter speech? If you want my job so badly, why don't you go up and ask him? I hear he doesn't mind using anyone these days if it means getting what he wants."

"The Dark Lord could be the start of something extraordinary for wizard kind." Pansy said as she wheeled around to trudge towards the double doors of the hospital wing. She cast him a last angry, but moreover concerned look. "And if you don't want any part of it, I suggest you drop dead before he does you a number, Draco. Your cowardice and hesitance will get you nowhere."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but was continuously interrupted.

"I've little care for our engagement now." Pansy's voice croaked this time, the worry overshadowing the anger in her features. "I only care for your life. Please, just do what you must and you'll be free of him. Do it and I won't have to worry about you again."

Before he could try to get a word out once more, Pansy had already hastened out of the hospital wing. Draco ran a frustrated hand through his hair, trying very hard to process what had just happened. He turned to the asters illuminating the dark hospital wing now. It danced and swung gracefully, as if trying to give him some comfort.

But not even some pretty flowers were going to help ease his discomfort.

Maybe it was easier to just drop dead. Then again, when did Draco Malfoy ever learn to give up on his family?

* * *

 **A/N:** I am deeply sorry for the late update! I've had a very busy few weeks since the last chapter and haven't had the time to properly right until yesterday. Still, I would love to hear what you think of this chapter. How did you think Draco handled his "breaking up" with Pansy? Who do you think sent Draco those _asters_ (hint hint, it's already obvious, haha!). Please leave your thoughts on the reviews page and please favorite/follow for more updates on the story! I truly hope you enjoyed it despite the late update.

 **PS.** I have just released a **new Draco/Astoria fanfiction** entitled **"Blissful Oblivion"**. It is an A-Z series of Drastoria one-shots in different timelines with a few AU's to boot. You can read the first chapter: **AUROR** by finding the story in my profile. I hope you'll enjoy reading that series just as much as you've enjoyed reading _If I Lose Myself_.

See you all next week,  
 **EMPG22HoPe**


	19. Chapter 19: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself**

 **by _EMPG22HoPe  
_**

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen: Astoria**

 **June 1997**

Astoria had never felt more relieved to be returning to Hogwarts after the Easter holidays. She always did like coming back home at every opportunity there was possible because it would mean seeing her parents again. Now, she only wished to be as far away from them—specifically her mother—as humanly possible.

As soon as she came back from the holidays, she spent most of her free time in the library or the Black Lake reading through all the books she had purchased at Diagon Alley regarding her curse. She went so far as to buy dark arts books, books on healing uncommon wizarding illnesses—and even resorted a little trip to Knockturn Alley to buy a specific book— _Magick Moste Evile_ —since none of the Professors were willing to let her borrow the book from the Restricted Section before Easter.

Literature, for once, had failed Astoria as she had found little to no semblance of ancestral illnesses from the book. She came across the word _blood malediction_ , but it was only briefly mentioned before it was swept aside by another topic. A part of her felt that must have been it, or at least related to what she was going through, but that would mean a great deal of getting another book to find its full reference and ideologies. Fate, it would seem, liked to play tricks with her now that she was so close to figuring out what's been going on with her.

Never in her life had she been more desperately curious about her illness than she was now.

Then there was still the matter of Aunt Cress's second vial to which—since her unexpected downtrodden from the Headmaster's office—Astoria had not been able to view just yet. She had tried several times to get an audience with the Headmaster, but the great wizard seemed to be more occupied these days; much to Astoria's dismay. Although it was not to say that she had completely given up. Patience was a virtue highly required, despite her lack thereof now that she had some clue, some _semblance_ of the reason behind her "weak immune system".

When Astoria entered a corridor after having left the library for dinner, she heard a loud crash from the end of the hall. A few girls from her year screeched and tumbled their way towards her, running away from something… until she saw it was someone.

Peeves cackled happily as he shot one dungbomb after another at the girls. As the last student rushed past her, Astoria looked up to find the poltergeist floating above her.

"Causing trouble again are we, Peeves?" Astoria asked calmly, a small smirk gracing her lips. She wasn't terrified of Peeves like most of the students. Peeves played little pranks on her, though from the last time she's seen the poltergeist—he had been pestering her during her drunken stupor after Slughorn's Christmas Party.

"The usual, ickle-little Astoria!" Peeves hollered delightfully, playing with a piece of dungbomb in his hand. "Where's your boyfriend? Ain't here to save you now, is he?"

Astoria's cheeks flushed. "He's not—"

"Works for me!" Peeves interrupted. Astoria only had a split second decision to dodge as soon as Peeves pelted the dungbomb towards her. She screeched, missing the putrid ball by a hair before she ran the other way to where the girls that Peeves had been pestering earlier went off.

"Honestly! Is. This. Necessary!" Astoria screeched from behind her as she rushed to one corridor after another, Peeves tailing from behind with a resounding laugh. She jeered for a twist in the corridor and bolted into the first door she found. Pushing into the room, she heaved and turned to shut the door behind her.

Peeves's laughter echoed down the corridors, calling out for Astoria in a terrible sing-song voice. Astoria's heart raced with her back to the door. She then jumped in surprise when she realized where she was and who she was facing.

She had apparently, and embarrassedly so, entered one of the boys' bathroom. And standing erect with shock, face damp and looking pale before her was Draco.

They stared at each other stiffly, not quite sure what to do with each other. Only when Astoria heard Peeves's voice diminish down the corridor did she move her back off the door to take a step forward.

"I'm sorry, I was just, er, Peeves—" Astoria paused briefly, watching as Draco wiped the sweat and tears off his face with the back of his shirt's sleeves. She slackened from her stiff front in worry. "Draco, are you alright?"

"I'm _fine_." Draco replied sharply, sniffling as he held onto the sink. "What are you even doing here, Greengrass? This is the boys' bathroom."

"I know, but," Astoria replied softly before taking another step forward, brows furrowed as she reached out to him. "Draco, is there something wrong? Please, you can tell me."

" _ **I don't need you!**_ " Draco snapped impatiently, grey eyes burning with hatred. Astoria flinched, feeling a bit of herself fall apart at his anger. Draco suddenly looked as if he regretted his outburst before turning his back on her, looking down into the sink as if to find it the most interesting thing in the room. She felt herself in tears when she heard Draco let out a soft sob. "Just go away, Astoria. Please."

Astoria didn't do as she was told. Instead, she stood before his back, watching him snivel through the mirror. She placed a hand on his shoulder gently, making Draco quiver as though he had just been burned. But she let her hand stay there, trying to fumble for the right words to say.

The last time she had seen Draco, he was being dragged by Professor Snape all bloodied and slashed up in all places towards the hospital wing. Astoria felt as if the world had fallen apart at the sight of him completely bruised. She had been in the middle of another argument with Pansy at that time, but then it hadn't mattered to either of them when they saw how Draco looked. She had to stop herself from going into the hospital wing further then, realizing what she should be doing—which was to avoid Draco just as he had simply wished to avoid her.

But that didn't stop her from visiting him. Sometimes, she found it hard to have him alone because Pansy or some of his friends were always there. The one time she managed to successfully do so was so early in the morning that breakfast had not even started yet. He was soundly asleep that time, his bedside— _gratefully_ —empty and Madame Pomfrey had just told her—with much reluctance after seeing a student so early out of bed—that he'd be released the next day.

Astoria had brought him a colorful bouquet of _asters_ , replacing the wilting green pansies from the vase on his bedside table. To make his bedside livelier, she charmed the asters to dance and sway happily. The asters meant a great deal to give to him—as if to tell him that she promises to be **patient** with him, patient with the things he couldn't tell her to save her, even though she didn't know when they would ever have a proper conversation again. She felt herself responsible for that time in Hogsmeade, and hoped to make it up to him—but she could never quite string the right words to do so; and so, she did through her gift.

She stayed in the hospital wing for an hour or so, just sitting by his side and brushing his blonde locks off his face. As he slept, she couldn't help but notice how troubled he looked. His usual sneering frown looked as if it had been permanently etched on his face. He tossed and turned in bed too, as if experiencing a bad nightmare. He had gained some considerably notable scars from his injury—a dark spell, they told her—but it didn't make him any less handsome to her.

Draco looked as troubled now as he did in his sleep. His body wracked with sobs, eyes shut tight while tears streamed down from his face to the basin before him.

Astoria felt like crying with him, but held herself back. She had to be strong for him. Her hand squeezed his shoulder gently. "Draco, it's okay. It's going to be okay."

"It's not," Draco whimpered, opening his eyes to stare at her through the mirror. The pair of them looked completely contrasted. Astoria looked every bit of light and Draco; every bit of pale darkness. "It's never going to be okay. I can't do it. I can't… but I have to… I _need_ to or he'll…"

"He'll what?" Astoria edged gently, her other hand reaching out instinctively to his left arm. Draco winced but did nothing. "Draco, it's okay. You can tell me."

Draco slowly slid himself to the ground, heaving large breaths as Astoria followed him down. He sat with his back against the sink's cupboard, Astoria seated quietly beside him.

Never in her life had she seen Draco this vulnerable. She had always seen him as this superior Slytherin, ordering people around and always having that air of confidence to him. Seeing him the way he is now, she felt as though she had just unearthed something that's gone missing for centuries. It was all new to her, but that did not stop her from staying by his side; holding onto him gently as though afraid he might crumble under her grasp.

"There's a reason why I had to stop being around people… being around Blaise and Pansy… being around Crabbe and Goyle… _you_ …" Draco started as he stared at the floor before turning to her. His grey eyes were now red from all his tearful crying. He went on. "I think you already know… or at least suspect… why… why do you think… why do you think I've been like this?"

Astoria thought about it for a moment. Nothing could terrify Draco, or any person, truly, more than the Dark Lord. It seemed to be the only reasonable explanation to her—for Lucius's imprisonment in Azkaban, the dreadful reputation that the Malfoys now harbor—it seemed a great feat of disaster for Draco. But she couldn't be so sure.

"Is it because of your father?" Astoria asked carefully, meeting his gaze patiently. "His being in Azkaban? Is that what's worrying you?"

Draco looked placid for a moment before nodding. "A part of it, yes. But it's much bigger than that, much more complicated. I want to tell you about it. _All of it_. Believe me, I do. But it's risking my life, my family's life… _yours_. I just don't want you to get all tied up in this. You deserve better than that."

"There is nothing that you could have done or will ever do that would make me think any less of you." Astoria said, her hand slowly reaching out for his own this time. _A start_ , she thought to herself. But she needed to be patient. She promised herself that for him. "Maybe… maybe you don't have to tell me all of it. You can just tell me what little you can, or nothing at all. I don't want to push you. Not anymore. I just…"

Astoria sighed deeply. "I just want to be by your side through every struggle you're going through. Draco, I'm your friend."

The side of Draco's lips rose just a bit, as if to find the very concept of them being _friends_ humorous when they both knew it might have escalated to just being that simple little word. But Astoria meant every word of it.

Draco shook his head this time before pulling his knees to his chest. He stared at the stone floor, looking as if he was trying to level his breath for something more human-sounding than the gut-wrenching grunts and sobs that came from him.

"The Dark Lord came to the manor this summer." Draco started, glancing at her briefly, momentarily gouging for her reaction, before turning his gaze back to the floor—where he let his arms fall freely. Astoria remained neutral looking, trying hard not to tremble in fear of the mention of You-Know-Who. "He's asked me to do something, but I can't tell anyone what; not even my mother. If I do it, accomplish the mission—he'll forgive my father, my family. And if I don't…"

Astoria feared to hear what would happen if Draco didn't do as he was told. It struck her now how much it made sense. But it broke her heart, nevertheless, to hear it. Draco was still so young; and asked to do a task—doubtful that it would be a kind one—under the threat of his family's life and his was immensely cruel. It made her wonder what the Dark Lord could have possibly asked Draco to do that would have been causing him this much trouble—the lack of sleep, the distance from the people that care about him. She could only imagine the worst.

But she stayed true to her word about staying with him through anything, and so she placed her hand on top of his on the floor before filling the spaces between his fingers with hers.

"I'm sorry," Astoria's voice was barely above a whisper, as she was still grounded speechless from the revelation that Draco had just pronounced. "I didn't know. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have even asked…" She trailed off, barely meeting his gaze this time as embarrassment and guilt overwhelmed her.

She felt the matter too personal for Draco to share to anyone, and yet—he had just told her. It must have meant a great deal to tell her, because she could feel him staring at her; waiting for some sort of advice, Astoria reckoned. But what advice could you give to a boy that was too terrified for his life to do nothing _but_ do what he was asked by the Dark Lord?

"Is it so bad?" Astoria asked carefully, trying to put two and two together. It can't be _that_ terrible of a task, wouldn't it? Surely, there was some bit of mercy. After all, Draco is just a boy. Even Astoria couldn't have possibly done what she was asked if she knew the severity of it. But then again, she might have done it if it meant to save her family's life.

Draco didn't say anything for a moment. Silence filled the restroom save for the sound of the Black Lake's waters splashing against the castle's walls. But when he did, he said the words barely above a whisper that Astoria had to lean in to hear him.

"Let's just say you wouldn't look at me the same way if you knew what it was. And how I **need** to do it. I don't have a _choice_." Draco pressed the last word as if hoping he did have one—but Astoria thought his other options were thin at this point in time. "He wants it done soon, and fast. He wants it done in front of his other Death Eaters… for proof…"

Suddenly, Draco hiked up the sleeve of his shirt off his left arm. Astoria only had a moment to look before a gasp escaped her lips. Gleaming menacingly black on his left arm was a skull protruding a great snake from its mouth. It danced dangerously against Draco's skin, as though delighted to have been revealed.

Anyone with a pair of eyes would have screamed at the sight of it.

Death Eaters were prime evil, though they were child's play compared to their leader, the Dark Lord himself. They were marked for their following, and had always reigned terror on everything muggle-related. Their reign along with the Dark Lord was to take over the world by storm, seeing muggles as nothing but scum compared to those who truly, _purely_ , possess magic. Astoria has read far too many history books to know the kind of people they are.

 _And yet_ , she thought, _was Draco truly capable of doing what Death Eaters do?_

"He made you a Death Eater?" Astoria asked bluntly, her voice shaking as she stared at the Dark Mark on Draco's arm fretfully. Her eyes quickly darted towards his, and felt embarrassed for having asked the question so loud when the answer had been completely obvious. Her hold on his hand had not slackened—in fact, it seemed to have tightened now that he had shown her his Dark Mark.

"In the summer," Draco nodded, lips pursed before shoving the sleeve back down; looking disgusted. He sniffed before looking at her once more. "He came to the manor and told me that he wanted me in his army—officially, because my father was one; why shouldn't I be?"

Astoria thought he didn't need to be like his father. She always believed him to be a better man than him.

"I was proud to be chosen." Draco admitted gruffly, barely tearing his gaze from her. "It meant I could restore my family's honor. It meant that by joining the Death Eaters, I would make my father proud. And that every transgression my father's done—failing the Department of Mysteries mission—would be forgiven. I didn't even mind what I needed to do, even more so when I heard what I had to."

"But then the school year came, and I paraded that pride with me to Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Pansy… They seemed to think me superior, and I wanted that. I wanted all of it, until I couldn't prove to earn all of it. I started resorting to methods that would quicken the blow… The cursed necklace… the poisoned mead…"

This time, Astoria's eyes widened fearfully—realizing that all that had happened to those students… Katie's admission to St. Mungo's, Ron Weasley's bed rest in the hospital wing… had all been because of Draco. But surely he wasn't targeting them specifically? She could understand Draco having something against Ron, who was Harry Potter's best friend. But Katie Bell? It didn't make sense if the target had meant to be them. Maybe it had meant to be for someone else…

"I thought maybe it'd be quicker. I thought maybe I didn't have to go through the whole process right in front of his other Death Eaters. But it seems to be the only option I have left… I have… I have _no other choice_." Draco ended bitterly, a sob escaping his lips once more before shutting his eyes tight, snapping his hand away from her touch and leaning his head against his knees; hiding himself away from her. "You shouldn't be here, Astoria. You shouldn't be around me. You wouldn't want to be if you find out who I have to… what I have to…"

Draco couldn't finish for he was now drowning himself in tears, in complete self-loathing. Astoria's heart ached dreadfully. She hated seeing him like this, hated hearing him say that she shouldn't be around him because of what he has to do.

A part of her had considered it for a moment as he spoke—considered avoiding him. But there was always some bigger part of her that wanted to stay. Because if no one wanted to stay with the boy who didn't have a choice, who was already regretting his moment of weakness to have everything forgiven, then who will?

Astoria couldn't imagine how unforgiving and lonely the answer might be.

As Draco sobbed, Astoria scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulder—letting him into her warmth. Supposing this an invitation, Draco moved to cry convulsively against her shoulder. This time, Draco sought to hold her hand once more, tighter this time, as though holding onto her was the last thing that was tethering him to this earth… perhaps the last thing that's tethering him to his morality…

"You know what's right from wrong, Draco." Astoria whispered softly as she ran gentle fingers through his blonde locks. "Whatever you have to do, whoever it is… I will stand by you. But Draco…"

She pulled aside for a moment to make him look at her. His grey eyes were red once more, but they softened considerably when Astoria's hand—who had previously been stroking his hair—landed gently against his damp cheeks.

"If you can… if you can resist in any way, for whatever reason, at least… perhaps… _please_ try to. I feel like you don't want to do it anymore, but you need to in order to protect your family. I don't know what he wants you to do, but I know it can't be good. If there's even… a _semblance_ of a few short minutes to stop yourself, to resist doing it; give yourself that privilege. You owe it to yourself to do that. You are _not_ a bad person, Draco."

Draco choked as he leaned into her touch. His skin was so deathly cold, similar to that of a corpse—but Astoria did little to pull away. If anything, she felt the need for more touch by pressing her forehead against his; allowing him the warmth he so desperately needs.

They stayed like that for a long while. Draco, letting out every little frustration he seemed to have been holding back all these months. Astoria, allowing him to use her as a tether to what little sanity he had left. It seemed an eternity of them being stuck that way, but it meant a great deal of comfort for both parties. Astoria, especially, for she could now hear him calming down to dry sobs.

"Would you forgive me if I do it?" Draco asked weakly, meeting her close gaze. "Even if I gave myself that resistance… that few short moments of clarity and it doesn't work… Would you still look at me the way you do now? Knowing what I've done… what I had to do…"

Astoria smiled at him sadly as she caressed his cheek gently. Her emotions were running high now, and could only give him the most honest answer she could ever possibly, _vulnerably_ , say to anyone.

"I would still look at you the way I do now no matter what you do. But I'm holding onto that hope that you don't have to do it… not because you think yourself a coward or that you're weak… but because you're human, and you know what you must do… no matter what it is." Astoria pledged softly, tears now streaming down the length of her cheeks.

"Forgive me." Draco begged shakily.

Astoria sighed softly, pulling Draco in now that he hid his face in the crook of her neck. If she could hide him from the world, if she could give him that moment of silence to ponder, to think for himself, she would. It seemed that she would have given _anything_ to make it all better, even if she knew that her help could only be so limited. But it was better to provide something, give him some semblance of **hope** , than _nothing_ at all.

"I already have." Astoria whispered her promise.

* * *

 **AN:** I am incredibly sorry once more for putting this out extremely late! I've just been so busy with school work since my college graduation is three months away so I rarely have the time to write for _If I Lose Myself_. With that being said, after the 20th Chapter, I will be taking a **semi-hiatus** from writing this fanfic. Chapter 20 pretty much finishes off the first part of this fanfic, and the second part is currently in the works. But with last minute requirements for graduation, it might take a while before **Part 2** of _If I Lose Myself_ is released. I truly hope you all understand and I'm so sorry!

Updates after Chapter 20 will resume on **April 2018**.

Nevertheless, I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think of it in the reviews section below and give this a follow/favorite to receive more updates on the story.

Till' next week,  
 ** _EMPG22HoPe_**


	20. Chapter 20: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty: Draco**

 **June 1997**

The past few weeks melted into late June when Draco finally fixed the Vanishing Cabinet. And for some added luck or dread, Rosmerta had sent a message through her fake Galleon one early evening that Dumbledore gone to Hogsmeade with Harry Potter—looking very out of himself. It seemed to be a miracle too good for Draco, and yet; a part of him wished it didn't have to look so easy.

It was only a matter of time before his message was sent that same evening to the cabinet's twin; and with only an hour and a half passed did the Death Eaters finally materialized out of the cabinet and into the Room of Requirement. They were looking exhilarated and hungry, and Draco had to hold his disappointment and tongue back when he saw that Fenrir Greyback had joined the lot. Draco hated him.

But there was no turning back now. Today was the day he would have to do what he'd been working for all year. And yet, as he walked with stride and fought through the members of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix; he felt a pang of impending doom that he tried to push aside. A part of him had hoped he could still stay down and fight, spare himself some time to let the other more sinister Death Eaters do the job for him. But his Aunt Bellatrix had already shoved him up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, and he had no choice but to carry on.

Draco had disarmed Dumbledore once he erupted into the tower's space. There was a short exchange between them, and for a moment—he felt the slightest bit grateful. If he could just buy some time… do a little villain monologue in front of Dumbledore… wait for the other Death Eaters to get there to him. But he was here—hawthorn wand pointed at the greatest wizard known to man today, at his complete mercy. _Why couldn't he do it_?

 _If there's even… a semblance of a few short minutes to stop yourself, to resist doing it; give yourself that privilege. You owe it to yourself to do that._

Remembering Astoria's words only made the job much difficult now because he had pondered her words for the past weeks since they last spoke. He had already given himself that privilege and now that privilege meant little when he was already facing the one thing he should be doing.

 _You are_ _ **not**_ _a bad person, Draco_.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer." Dumbledore spoke.

"How do you know?" Draco snapped coldly, as if to question both Dumbledore and the echoing words of Astoria inside his head. "You don't know what I'm capable of, you don't know what I've _done_!"

At this point, he didn't know what or who he was. It was as if he knew at one point, but then tumbled onto another kind of person in fear. He was losing his person in him and he was feeling completely helpless.

"Oh, yes, I do," Dumbledore said plainly as Draco flinched. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts… so feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it…"

"It has been in it!" Draco said a little more forcefully this time. He wished that he could sound convincing, but Dumbledore's words and assumptions were truth—truths that he didn't want to submit to. And yet, he knew deep down they were, in fact, feeble attempts. He banked on the stupidity of luck to get him through it; but fate certainly had a funny way of playing tricks with him.

They stood there at the top of the Tower alone, exchanging stories as though they meant to talk about the weather. _Where the bloody hell are they_? He thought vehemently. _Just do it for me. Just do it_.

Draco remembered Astoria in the middle of their conversation, and how they've started to talk again for the briefest of moments when possible. He could remember himself feeling embarrassed the first time he saw her again after she had caught his breakdown in the bathroom. She did little to recount the event, pretending as though it never happened. But whenever she saw his features harden, as if in deep contemplation—mostly his thoughts running wild and his anxiety increasing over the mission—she kept circling back to that one advice.

 _I'm holding onto that hope that you don't have to do it… not because you think yourself a coward or that you're weak… but because you're human._

He was feeling less of a human every day since, but what kept him tethered to reality was the sight of Astoria—her comforting words, her gentle company. It had been all the little moments he could savor, and yet he knew that it was only temporary. After tonight, he was certain—despite what she says—that she would not look at him the same way again.

Astoria was the light, and Draco was the dark. Nothing good could come out of it.

He realized that the only way for either of them to stay sane after this was for them to be apart.

"There is little time, one way or another," Dumbledore pronounced weakly, but with conviction. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"My options!" Draco laughed derisively, causing him to snap back into his current reality. "I'm standing here with a wand and I am about to kill you—"

"My dear boy, let us have no more pretence about that. If you were going to kill me, you would have done it when you first disarmed me. You would not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means."

"I haven't got any options!" Draco hissed, looking and sounding desperate now. _Were there options_? "I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

Dreams of his parents being killed by the Dark Lord suddenly came over him. He couldn't let that happen and yet—he was doing absolutely nothing to prevent it—except let someone else do it for him. Draco didn't care about the glory anymore. He just wanted his family alive.

When Dumbledore suggested on wanting to help him, Draco's entire body shook. It was the same line he heard from Blaise, from Pansy, from Astoria… and yet—he knew deep down that **nobody** could help him.

"No, you can't," Draco answered, his arm that had been holding his wand aloft shaking considerably. Dumbledore was a powerful wizard… more powerful than the Dark Lord… surely he could—but _no_ —"Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. **I've got no choice**."

"Come over to the right side, Draco. We can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban… when the time comes we can protect him too…" Dumbledore looked inquisitive, pleasant, even, as he pondered options aloud. "Come over to the right side, Draco… You are _not_ a killer."

" _Have you tried to ask Professor McGonagall… or even Professor Dumbledore for help?" Astoria asked carefully as she shoved a forkful of the chocolate cake she baked in her mouth. Her feet swung lightly over the edge of one of the island counters in the kitchens._

 _Draco scoffed beside her as he played with his own slice of cake, a cake Astoria had baked for him for his seventeenth birthday. It surprised him how much he's forgotten his own birthday. He_ _ **relished**_ _on the day, thinking himself royalty above all back then every 5_ _th_ _of June. To forget his own birthday seemed too much for someone like him. He was grateful Astoria remembered, reminding him how he was just a boy._

 _If only it were that simple. That he were just a boy, and not a Death Eater, and Astoria was just a girl, and not a blood traitor… would things have been more simple between them?_

" _What help could they give_ _ **me**_ _?" He asked, avoiding her gaze as he began to take generous bites of the cake. It was bloody delicious. "They loathe me. I reckon they'd rather be spending more time saving everyone in this ruddy castle instead of helping an enemy."_

 _Astoria looked at him, considered him as their eyes met. She sighed softly before she placed her plate beside her."You don't know that, Draco. Perhaps they_ _ **can**_ _help. They're good people and I doubt they would care if they were helping the Dark Lord himself change his mind."_

" _Astoria—"_

" _I'm_ _ **just**_ _saying," Astoria pressed firmly, staring at him as worry etched her features. "It's not a bad idea. Dumbledore_ _ **is**_ _more powerful than the Dark Lord. Surely, he can help. If he can make time to see me, a less than important student, in his office—I'm sure he can help someone who's literally in more danger than anyone in this school at the moment."_

 _Draco sneered this time. She just didn't get it._

 _Astoria reached out for his hand that held his fork aloft. He set the fork down and carefully filled the spaces between Astoria's fingers. She smiled at him sadly before resting her head on his shoulder. He inhaled the scent of her vanilla shampoo—quite candidly one of his favorite scents since he and Astoria had started talking again._

" _Please be careful…" She murmured so low, Draco almost didn't hear her._

 _A tired sigh escaped his lips as they watched the elves work before them, the warm crackle of the kitchen fire emanating the same amount of warmth Astoria provided. He wished he could still like this forever. But…_

" _I can't promise you that."_

"But I got this far, didn't I?" Draco said slowly after dragging himself out of the short reminisce. "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here… and you're in my power… you're at my mercy…"

"No, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly. "It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."

Draco paled and he felt his wand hand drop a fraction, considering Dumbledore's words. But before he could find the right words to say—footsteps echoed from the stairs leading up to the Tower. Relief coursed through him for a brief moment as four Death Eaters entered the Tower's space. He grimaced when he saw that Fenrir Greyback had joined them.

The Death Eaters urged him to kill Dumbledore, but Draco felt like melting into the shadows of the bigger, more terrifying lot of them now. But his wand was still aloft, though it shook more terribly now as he heard their goading voices to complete the mission. Their voices were background noise now, his aim at Dumbledore feebler than his attempts to kill him earlier in the school year.

But then there was a bang as the ramparts opened to reveal Severus Snape with his wand in hand.

Draco heard the Death Eaters converse with Snape, but the quick rate that his heart raced pumped louder and more dangerously than ever. He could feel harsh beats through his ears, deafening him from the conversation. His eyes swept towards Snape, who had shoved him aside and stood where Draco had last stood when it had only been him and Dumbledore earlier.

Before Draco could even realize what had happened, he saw a flash of green light, a muffled spell cast, and Dumbledore plummeting into the air. Draco's eyes widened, his mouth agape with complete and utter shock as the greatest wizard known to man fell to his death.

And he knew, then, that all _hope_ was completely lost.

* * *

Draco no longer knew what he was doing. One minute, he stood erect on the spot after watching Dumbledore get thrown off the tower and the next, his feet carried him down the ramparts, or rather, Snape dragging him away from the scene then back into the fray of the battle with the Phoenix and DA members. He could only hear curses and hexes flying through the space, but it seemed that as he walked past the battle—not a single hex or curse flew his way as though a protective bubble had surrounded him and Snape.

At that point, Draco could hear nothing but the pounding in his ear and the way his heart raced still with the traumatizing sight of seeing someone get killed as he raced the corridors beside Snape. He could hear snippets of Snape's words as they rushed past one hall after another…

 _You will be implicated if we stay long… We have to get out of the castle's protective borders… The Ministry will be at our throats… Potter's catching up… He saw us… Azkaban…_

But Draco didn't care about Azkaban, or trying to leave the castle. If anything, he felt remorse course through him despite not having done the crime. But Snape had been right. He would be implicated. And his mother, _Merlin_ , had he forgotten? The heartbreak his mother would most likely go through a second time if she saw her son get chucked into Azkaban the same way her husband had been.

Draco owed it to her not to get caught.

"Draco!" came the shrill cry of Astoria's voice. Draco's hurried vision of passing hallways stopped dead on the sight of Astoria, clad in her jumper and jeans, hurrying up the steps that lead away from the dungeon.

As if he'd just been put under the Imperius curse, he stopped rushing towards the Entrance Hall. Snape tugged at him harshly, eyeing him dangerously for being stupid enough to stop moving.

"Just one second—" Draco told him derisively, shoving off Snape's hold.

"Make it quick!" Snape howled at him raptly as Draco rushed towards Astoria who was looking very pale.

"Draco, what's going on—" Astoria started but Draco overlapped her words.

"Listen to me," Draco started hastily as their eyes met. She was looking every bit of scared that she should have been weeks ago, but there was no time to ponder over it. "After the school year, you have to get out of here, get out of Hogwarts, out of Britain. He's dead, okay? He's **dead**. No one's going to save everyone now, everything's gone to hell—"

"Draco—" Astoria tried to cut in but Draco held her by the arms firmly.

" _Promise me_ you'll get out of here in the morning! _Promise me_ you'll stay safe!" Draco screeched at her desperately this time, feeling time tick so quickly. He started to hear footsteps echoing towards them. "Promise me, Astoria!"

Astoria was stricken with shock, and she opened her mouth again as though to say her piece—but settled for a terrified, shaking nod. Draco stared at her weakly, not knowing what else he could say, how else he could explain it. He nodded stiffly before whirling to rush towards Snape. They then continued their journey out of the castle's foyer and out into the cold, dusk air.

Draco did not know when he would ever see Astoria again. Hell, he didn't know if he'll ever see _any_ of them again: Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Pansy…

But he knew that the next time he would come back to Hogwarts, things would never be the same again.

 **END OF  
PART ONE: BEFORE THE WAR**

* * *

 **AN:** And that officially concludes **_PART ONE_** of _If I Lose Myself_. Thank you so much for what little support I have had over this fanfic. I never really thought I'd ever get this far into writing a fanfic as this is the _longest_ one I've ever written. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please let me know your thoughts in the reviews section below!

 **PART TWO: THE WAR** of _If I Lose Myself_ will come around April 2018 as I will be taking a month hiatus to further work on the second part of this fanfic.

Thank you so much for reading, and see you all soon!  
 ** _EMPG22HoPe_**


	21. Chapter 21: Astoria

**_If I Lose_** _**Myself**_  
by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **PART TWO**

 **THE WAR**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-One: Astoria**

 **August 1997**

The death of the greatest wizard known to man took a huge toll on the British wizarding world. It had meant the end of a great era to many. To the Death Eaters, it had meant a time of fortune. But to most, it had meant that all hope has truly been **lost**.

It had been complete and utter chaos in July. With Dumbledore gone, Death Eaters were far more rampant than usual. While the Ministry was trying to detain stories of missing families or the deaths of some muggle and muggle-born families, Astoria knew too much from her father that they were fornicating lies once more to avoid civil unrest. But despite the Ministry's efforts, Astoria and many others knew that it was dark times—and vigilance is the least that would help them these days.

News even reached France, to where the Greengrasses have fled momentarily for most of the summer. But with all the resounding closeness of most of Britain and Ireland, it was impossible not to hear one or two about what was happening in England. No one in their right mind would even come close to traveling there. Everyone will have already fled out of fear for their lives or for their lack of proving their true blood status.

Generally, it had not been easy—the unrest. The morning when the students had awoken to Dumbledore's death, parents flooed to Hogwarts to drag their children out of school. Many of those parents included Astoria's. Cassandra and Cepheus Greengrass wasted no time taking her and her sister Daphne back to the manor; then many hours later, out of Britain and into France where they were much "safer".

Cassandra had considered sending Astoria and Daphne to Beauxbatons. It was not a bad school, if Astoria were being perfectly honest. But she had known Hogwarts for so long. It was her **home**. How could she simply abandon it just because Dumbledore was now gone?

Too much has happened since. It was impossible for Astoria to sleep at night knowing what was out there. Dumbledore was gone. The Death Eaters have won. There was simply no hope to it. There was a small part of her that kept wishing for something futile like a miracle. But the days grow darker, and Astoria wondered how long she could keep holding on to her false sense of hope before tragedy unfurls before her.

Fleeing to France seemed like the best solution at that time. Granted, the Greengrasses were now branded as cowards since anyone in the Sacred Twenty-Eight surely would be in their right mind to stake their claim in the wizarding world now, more than ever. Cepheus had passed off the family going to France as a little family vacation, still keeping in touch with the Ministry as always. But little do people know that the Greengrasses might not ever step foot in Britain again.

Until now.

The second day of August touched her days unlike any other. It felt even gloomier, and Astoria feared that Dementors had reached Montpellier like it had in Dover. The Greengrass Manor in Montpellier, France was nothing short of smaller than the one they had back home. It was more home-y, but antique-like and intricate in style. But it was lonelier and colder than it normally was. She wasn't quite sure if it was the dread of the times, or simply the weather. Either way, it gave Astoria no comfort.

Even more so when she went down to breakfast that morning, clad in a summer dress to outshine the sleet of dark and gloom that's emanated the manor. Her family sat on the circular table in the dining hall while being served by their house elf, Briseis.

Daphne was poking at her food mournfully, the usual air of bright and sunny happiness to her had dispersed in the past month—though Astoria doubted it was because of her wedding's delay. In fact, Daphne had been thrilled quite briefly after finding out that her parents had delayed her wedding to Theodore Nott due to the unpredicted times.

But no sooner into the month did Daphne finally fall into a pattern of silence and moments alone in the garden. Astoria often worried whether they should have her sister checked, fearing for the worst that she might soon turn up to have the same condition as her.

"You might want to sit down, Astoria." Cassandra announced just as Cepheus placed the Daily Prophet that he had been occupying himself with earlier. Daphne didn't look up.

Astoria sat beside her sister as Briseis placed a plate of strawberry crepes before her.

The grave looks on her parents' faces were enough to send her on edge.

"What's going on?" Astoria asked carefully, as though if she had said it any other way that it would set off some sort of trigger.

Cepheus and Cassandra eyed each other briefly before the Greengrass heir spoke.

"Your mother and I will not be sending you and Daphne to Beauxbatons this coming school year." Cepheus started gruffly, trying to meet Astoria's gaze but failing miserably as his eyes flitted from his daughter to the paper before him constantly. "I fear… I fear you must go back to Hogwarts next month."

Astoria nearly jumped from her seat when Daphne bolted off her chair, shock crossing her older sister's features for the first time in months. She didn't know it had been possible to see her sister look anything other than passive until now.

" _What_?" Daphne sputtered lividly at their parents. "Have you gone _mad_? You specifically said we won't be going back to Hogwarts… _ever_! That we'd live our lives more quietly in France since You-Know-Who is nobody but Britain's problem now! You **promised**!"

"Well, thank goodness we haven't the idea to do an Unbreakable Vow over that sentiment, then." Cepheus replied with a frustrated sigh as his fingers fumbled for the pages of the Daily Prophet. "Circumstances have changed, Daphne. Vol— _The Dark Lord_ has, unfortunately, has taken over the Ministry."

A sharp gasp escaped Astoria's lips. Daphne stared at her parents in horror. Cassandra looked forlorn, avoiding her family's gaze as she shoved mouthfuls of crepes into her mouth.

And it seemed that just like that, every shred of last hope she had left in her had completely gone. The Ministry had always remained a strong front despite their white lies, and never has it been taken over by anyone other than that of official power. But it so happens that if Death Eaters outnumber uncorrupt politicians—which aren't plenty these days—there was simply no question to it.

It felt as though history was being rewritten in the most brutal way possible. Astoria could not possibly imagine a world where the Dark Lord had taken over. She had heard stories from her father about the possibility of it happening so many years ago, years before she was born. Something of that manner had almost happened before. It was only stories to her then, but now—it has become a reality she wished not to face.

"Rufus Scrimegeour is dead. They're… they're changing things at the Ministry. I'm being called back there for staff meetings and whatnot. But it's not just that…" Cepheus ran a frustrated hand through his dark locks. "Going to Hogwarts now is an… **immense** requirement, especially for pure-bloods like you two. To not go to Hogwarts next month would mean a death sentence to our entire family. The two of you must go with no further questions."

"But father—" Daphne started heatedly just as Cassandra looked up. "We can't! We simply can't! The danger we would be in! Can you not imagine— _mother_ —" Daphne glared at their mother as though it was all her fault. "Please talk some _sense_ into him. This is outrageous! I care little for **immense requirement** —"

"Daphne, please, just let it go," Astoria finally found her voice in the midst of all the shock. She stared at her sister pleadingly, hoping for her to shut up now that the stakes of their danger were so irrevocably high.

"Let it go?! Aren't you the poster child now when I need your defiance the most?" Daphne berated scathingly at Astoria. "How are you okay with this, Tori?! They would be sending us off to our deaths. We'd be pigs for slaughter at Hogwarts—"

"They wouldn't be stupid enough to kill pure-bloods, if that's what you're so worried about." Astoria told Daphne impatiently this time. Granted, it was not the best idea to go back to Hogwarts. But if there was one thing she earned for a trait as a Slytherin, it was self-preservation. And if self-preserving means appearing at Hogwarts to stake claim to their pure-blood heritage, then it's what needed to be done. "They've gone completely mad over the prospects of pure-bloods. They wouldn't dare touch a hair on you—"

"But they would on you!" Daphne's eyes flashed considerably now. "You practically scream **blood traitor**! If they find out your avocation to those filthy muggles, they'll have your head! But if you're so keen on _dying_ —"

"That's enough, _both of you!_ " Cassandra howled as she, too, stood up. Her eyes swept her two daughters glaringly, immediately shutting the two of them up. "You will go to Hogwarts whether either of you like it or not. Quite ironically, it is the **safest** place for you now more than ever. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will suspect something off if two girls born of the Sacred Twenty-Eight doesn't attend Hogwarts. He will think you're both hiding something, and Merlin help me if they capture either of you for torture. I've seen this happen before… I will not have my daughters make the same mistake!"

Silence filled the dining hall save for the city buzz short miles away from the manor. Astoria avoided her mother's gaze before her eyes landed promptly on the Daily Prophet situated on the table. The headline said so much in such a short sentence.

 _Students required to attend Hogwarts by order of its new Headmaster, Severus Snape_

Astoria suddenly remembered Draco, and the last time she's seen of him. He was with Professor Snape, fleeing, for whatever reason, to Merlin knows where. Until the morning after when she realized why Draco and Snape had to flee. There were implicative rumors about who murdered Dumbledore that night in the Battle at the Astronomy Tower. Names were given out in the Daily Prophet and Astoria had to seize her heart physically when she saw Draco's name on there.

Did _Draco_ kill Dumbledore? At the time of the article's release, Astoria could not believe even for a fraction of a moment that he would have done it. She finally knew what he was being told to do—and it was certainly far worse than anything she had ever imagined. Draco was still so young… although having turned seventeen; he was still so young to be committing murder. Astoria had thought for a moment that he **had** done it—to preserve his life, his family's.

But then she could remember the look of fear in his eyes the first time she came across him in the bathroom. How the very prospect of murder was killing him inside more than he was to kill Dumbledore. And Astoria's plea for him to give himself the privilege of resistance—did Draco heed her words? Or were they simply words to him without much meaning as his life and his family's mattered more than Dumbledore's and the advice of a fourth year girl?

Astoria feared to ask him those very questions for when she sent him letters. At least once every week, she sent out an owl to check on Draco. Her letters were fairly short but full of concern. No doubt her letters were being intercepted, so she was as vague as she possibly could be. She asked how he was, and where he was. But even as the month ended, she simply received little to nothing from Draco Malfoy. Either he was completely terrified of what she thought of him now, or he was truly and with the most finality avoiding her at all costs.

And Astoria didn't know what could possibly be worst between either prospects.

"The lot of you must stay neutral in all of this." Cepheus warned before shooting a furtive look towards Astoria. "Especially you, Tori. I will not have this muggle-loving nonsense once you come back to Hogwarts. I implore you to be careful with your words, with the people you associate yourself with. Merlin forbid if you're ever found on the wrong side of things there."

Astoria frowned this time. She didn't give a damn about being a blood traitor. Everyone already knew much of it. She doubted she could ever hold herself back from helping anyone that might need her help there. Perhaps going back to Hogwarts wasn't such a bad idea… if it meant keeping some peace… if it meant shedding some bit of hope between the bouts of darkness.

But she dared not to voice it out loud. Instead, she sealed the "promise" with a slight nod. Daphne was still fuming, but has calmed down slightly since. Their mother's words truly rang more truths than the Daily Prophet could put together in one page. There was no point in resisting now.

They had to go back to Hogwarts. And Astoria feared what was to become of the school now that Dumbledore would not be there to protect them all.

* * *

 **August 18, 1997**

The 18th of August had always been a special day for Astoria simply because she gets to celebrate her birthday. She had just turned sixteen and touching into her fifth year at Hogwarts. That meant O.W.L.S. to worry about, but most of all; it meant having to shoulder a responsibility she wasn't quite sure she could handle.

Astoria's Hogwarts letter, along with Daphne's, had arrived on the day of her birthday. And while Daphne's were mostly parchments of the letter and books required, Astoria's was that of the same only a gleaming green Prefect badge tumbled out noisily onto the dining table that morning.

Her parents were positively thrilled, but no more than Daphne—who had been bouncing on the balls of her feet in celebration. It was quite a shock for Astoria to receive something so greatly honorary, but her parents found it little to no surprise. Astoria is, after all, the smartest girl in her year. She held an air of responsibility for most group projects, and was one of the earlier, younger members of the Slug Club. The credentials to her being Prefect were unlikely to be questionable.

Astoria pondered the prospects of being Prefect all day since. To celebrate her sixteenth birthday and her being Prefect, she simply asked for a day out with her family in Paris. While her parents were off setting arrangements for lunch at the Eiffel Tower, Astoria was being dragged around the streets of Paris towards every clothing shop possible by her sister, Daphne.

Daphne seemed more enlightened now despite the news of the Dark Lord taking over the Ministry. She's finally dropped her vexation at going back to Hogwarts and rather felt much more focused in asserting her newly entitled position at the school for being a pure-blood. Apparently, being pure-blood at Hogwarts these days was as close to royalty as anything. And to Daphne, that meant power unlike any other—something her older sister did not have much until now.

"You know, I quite like you being Prefect now. I mean, I'm pretty jealous of course. Prefect Bathroom privileges… using your new position to get away with things, but _now_ —it's all hard work, isn't it? Too much work, in fact." Daphne explained as she took a red dress off one of the clothing lines and pressing it against herself. "I'd rather have you doing all those things around because then you can dock points from those _stupid_ Gryffindors."

"That's _not_ what Prefects do, Daphne," Astoria laughed softly as she nodded at the dress. "It's perfect on you. You should try it on."

"Rubbish, it's your birthday, silly!" Daphne shook her head before shoving the dress in Astoria's hands. "You try it on! If it looks pretty on you, I'll buy it as your gift… among all the other gifts, of course."

For the first time in months, Astoria laughed heartily before sauntering towards the changing rooms. Astoria had already received a number of gifts from Daphne that day. She had gotten a large box of macarons from Laduree as well as a gift box of all the Honeyduke's sweets available in Hogsmeade.

Daphne had claimed to have gotten Astoria the best presents. Although, it was not to say that she didn't enjoy her presents from others as well. Her mother had gotten her some lovely emerald drop earrings. Her father, on the other hand, passed on to her one of many Greengrass family heirlooms: an emerald ring with the Greengrass family crest on it, which was mainly a large cursive G entwined by green vines. Luna sent in a mysterious-looking plushy of a creature whose name she couldn't quite pronounce, let alone spell.

But she supposed the most astonishing gift was from her Aunt Cressida. The gift had nearly given her mother a heart attack when a white Persian cat hopped off the little basket a house elf delivered at their French manor. The cat, of which she had recently named Snowy, immediately leapt towards Astoria's arms when they first encountered each other. Ever since then, she couldn't quite get Snowy out of her sight; much to her mother's allergic dismay.

As Astoria wedged herself into a changing room, she heard Daphne speak again.

"All I'm saying is that you have more power in your hands than you did last year." Daphne said haughtily as Astoria began to undress. "I think it's just about right. Only _pure-bloods_ should be eligible for an esteemed role like that. Can you imagine a **mudblood** being Prefect? From what I've been hearing, that Granger girl has gone off the radar with Weasley and Potter. Off for a little adventure, are they? Or simply running off? Either way, I'm glad she's done for. Scum like her don't deserve titles like that."

"Well, of course she does!" Astoria argued as she shimmied herself into the red dress which fit her quite well. She had to hold her tongue from scolding Daphne for using the offensive word most pure-bloods call muggle-borns, but she simply could not when Daphne degraded Hermione for simply being muggle-born. "I'm sure she's earned it quite well! She _is_ the smartest girl in your year, after all. All that hard work paid off to her being Prefect."

"Oh, that's a load of waffles, if you ask me," Daphne scoffed while Astoria smoothed the folds of the dress down. "She's still a mudblood and deserves little to no respect."

Astoria tore the curtain of her changing room off angrily this time as she marched towards her sister. " _Stop_ using that word, Daphne!"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! I reckon it'd be thrown around so flippantly at school these days now that those stupid _mudbloods_ have to go through a registry just to check if their magic wasn't stolen."

"Ridiculous!" Astoria fumed this time. She's heard about the Muggle-Born Registry and the Ministry's claims that muggle-borns had stolen magic from other wizards. It seemed the Dark Lord would go through any lengths to prove that muggle-borns were just as bad as muggles, or perhaps worst scum than they are. It was absolutely repulsive.

"Astoria, you must remember what father said," Daphne warned, eyes narrowing. "You _must_ stay neutral. It's your key to survival at Hogwarts."

"Well, maybe I _don't_ want to stay neutral!" Astoria proclaimed unashamedly, finally releasing all the defiance she kept in her small body. "Maybe I want to help those muggle-borns that are forced to come to Hogwarts! Merlin knows Snape won't protect them and knowing what's about to happen, I reckon that they'll receive fates worse than death. I don't mind standing by their side if it meant to save their lives!"

"Astoria!" Daphne snapped; looking very on edge as her eyes flitted from Astoria to the people around the changing room. "That is **exactly** the kind of thing that will get you killed at Hogwarts if you don't shut your bloody trap!"

" _Pure-bloods are as close to royalty as anything these days_." Astoria mock-quoted Daphne for when her sister proclaimed it not too many weeks ago. "If I'm such royalty, I doubt they would touch a hair on me. And even if they do, I don't care! I can't believe you would stand for all of this. Those muggle-borns are just as human as you and I with the same amount of intelligence, perhaps even more considering their experiences in the muggle world. To treat them like scum and torturing them for "stealing" magic just shows how prejudiced and bigoted the system those Death Eaters are promoting!"

Daphne was red with anger now. Astoria knew that Daphne had always been cautious of her own words, but now it seemed her sister had truly, finally, chosen a side despite their parents' warning of staying neutral. It was as clear as day that Daphne Greengrass had become the pureblood supremacist their mother had always wanted her to be.

"I don't know how on earth you'll survive Hogwarts this year," Daphne breathed out angrily. "But for your sake, I hope you know that I will not acknowledge you as my sister if you keep up this act at school."

Astoria looked affronted. Daphne couldn't possibly mean that now, did she? Surely, her sister was simply trying to one-up her to win the argument. It was so much like Daphne to release words into the air without much meaning for the sake of getting the upper hand. But the look on her sister's face completely says otherwise.

"You don't mean that, Daphne." Astoria's voice softened this time, the fire from earlier dissipating into a small flame. "Surely, you don't?"

Daphne's lip twitched into a menacing smile before casting Astoria a disgusted look. Astoria's resolve weakened. Her sister had never looked at her that way before.

"I meant every word of it." Daphne drawled on harshly before turning her back on Astoria and stomping out of the store in a heap of anger.

Astoria slid onto the nearest chair, looking very indisposed as she watched Daphne leave the store without even a second glance.

These were dark times, indeed. And Astoria wondered, for a fraction of a moment, if there would be anyone out there who shared the same convictions as she did—or if she was the only one left. After all, who in their right mind would go around saying what she just did these days? It meant a death sentence, though nothing she probably hadn't already thought of with her unusual illness.

These days, it would seem that death would be kinder to anyone who wished differently of the times.

* * *

 **AN:** As promised, I am back from my month hiatus to bring you **_PART TWO_** of **If I Lose Myself**. Here's a little insight chapter on Astoria's plummeting relationship with her sister and the severity of how the war is starting to build from the nasty ground up. I should have updates out every other week, so stay tuned! Please leave a review on what you expect to happen during part two! I always do love hearing all your theories and suggestions. If you want to keep reading, please give this story a favorite or a follow for more updates!

Thank you so much for reading, and for your impeccable patience as I bring you Draco and Astoria's story!

See you soon,  
 _ **EMPG22HoPe**_


	22. Chapter 22: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Two: Draco**

 **August 1997**

The first letter Draco received from Astoria was dated on the fourth of July. Draco had not been at Malfoy Manor when the letter arrived by owl. His aunt Bellatrix was the one that had received the letter for him and did little with her discretion of tearing the letter open herself. She set him on edge, his aunt.

He had been at Spinner's End with his mother and Severus Snape, staying out of sight from the Ministry a week after Dumbledore's funeral had transpired at Hogwarts until Bellatrix came to escort them back to the manor after the place had been given all manner of protective spells. But Malfoy Manor was no longer home to Draco since, because the Dark Lord had used his home as headquarters to his number of most trusted Death Eaters; all sinister enough to taint the ancient and most noble halls of his home.

 _July 4th, 1997_

 _Dearest Draco,_

 _I do not know where to start. But I suppose I should start by saying that I hope that you're alright, that you're still alive and safe somewhere with your mother. The Ministry has a price on you and Professor Snape's head. You cannot imagine how it pains me to see it. I've prayed to just about every higher being that you are far from all that's happening._

 _I also do not know if the rumors of your involvement in Professor Dumbledore's demise are true. There are far too many sides of the story right now, and everyone is still devastatingly confused. A part of me is hoping that you didn't have his blood on your hands. I pray Professor Snape saved you that trouble, or whichever way has happened._

 _Whether you did it or not, I still stand by what I said to you not long ago. There is nothing that you could have done or will ever do that would make me think any less of you._

 _Please keep safe._

 _All my love,  
Astoria_

Draco held on to that letter as though it was the only thing that tethered him to the earth, to any semblance of human sanity that's still left in him.

The second letter arrived during the week when Draco and his mother finally returned to Malfoy Manor. He made quick haste to meet any owl that came by the manor, despite Avery being on owl-post duty. Draco managed to snatch the familiar insignia of the Greengrass crest waxed letter before Avery could even bat an eye. It arrived only moments after one of the meetings in the manor's common room. Too much has happened in that room since his arrival. That is, to say, so many people have died there at the hands of the Dark Lord himself or several Death Eaters. That day was the second time he'd seen someone die. It was one of the Death Eaters by the name of Baddock. Draco did little to listen to the reason for the poor man's death by You-Know-Who's hand. But whatever it was, he felt certain that the man did not deserve it.

 _July 11_ _th_ _, 1997_

 _Dearest Draco,_

 _My family and I have fled to France. Many of the pure-bloods are questioning our allegiance, but my parents don't seem to give a care at this point. I haven't even told them about leaving Britain when they've pulled me and Daphne out of the school the morning after Dumbledore's death. I'm sending this letter to you from France._

 _I_ _ **desperately**_ _hope that you're okay. Please write back, or send me a sign that you are, in fact, alright. I'm very worried about you._

 _All my love,  
Astoria_

All he wanted to do was to write back, but it was too risky. He would be exposing Astoria to the troubles that he's going through and he knew better than to tell her. She deserved better than that, as she deserves so much and more.

Merlin, he couldn't even write to Blaise or Pansy; or any of his friends, at this point. The Dark Lord would not allow him and his family. Despite Draco's involvement in helping with Dumbledore's death, he was given little privileges in his own home—which was all the more disrespect. But the Dark Lord could give a damn about respecting the home of one of the most prominent pure-bloods. Despite the times, the Malfoys were already tainted on both sides; only clinging to the one his father, Lucius, who had just escaped Azkaban earlier that month with all the other Death Eaters imprisoned during the battle in the Department of Mysteries, felt would be merciful in keeping them alive… _for now_.

The third letter arrived a day after Draco witnessed Charity Burbage's—the Muggle Studies professor that he merely passed by in the school halls—death for simply teaching the very subject alone.

It rattled him to receive Astoria's third letter. He had considered writing back to her to tell her to stop writing. If they knew of Astoria, if even _one_ of the Death Eaters find out about her; they would hunt her down. Not that the Greengrasses weren't already so wrongly implicated in the Dark Lord's eyes for fleeing to France. But if they knew of his association to her, it would have both of their heads on the chopping block.

 _July 17_ _th_ _, 1997_

 _Dearest Draco,_

 _France is lonely, and despite how safe it might be, I cannot bear to go to Beauxbatons in the middle of an impending war. Daphne's engagement to Theo has been delayed since the Notts are so highly involved with the Dark Lord. It didn't sit quite well with my parents, who prefer to stay neutral. It's taking me some time to accept neutrality after reading everything that's happening in Britain through the Daily Prophet._

 _Draco, please be careful. Whatever the Dark Lord is making you do… I simply can't imagine… I cannot blame you for the actions you must do from here on out. Because if it were me, if I were being truly honest, I… I would have done the same._

 _But there is always a third option, one that pleases both sides. I just haven't figured out what it is._

 _I will let you know when I do. Please be safe._

 _All my love,  
Astoria_

Draco's loyalty was later tested that very day. Rookwood had given false information to the whereabouts of Alastor Moody, who the Dark Lord had been desperate to capture since the man had vital information to Potter's move from his muggle home. Though it's not to say it was completely Rookwood's fault, since he had unknowingly tortured someone in the Ministry for information who was actually an undercover for the Order of the Phoenix, giving Rookwood a false trail.

That was the first day he was asked to torture a person with the Cruciatus curse, just as he had for many months at a time on some measly animal during his Occlumency practices with Aunt Bellatrix. To cast the curse, he would have to mean it. But he had nothing against Rookwood. He had nothing against anyone _except_ the Dark Lord. So he thanked his lucky stars that the nose-less bastard couldn't read past him now, for he imagined torturing Voldemort himself—causing the curse to have its full effect on Rookwood.

The cries of the man he tortured still echoed within his nightmares to this day.

The fourth and final letter he received from Astoria was the day _after_ the Death Eaters had attempted to seize Harry Potter during the precise date of his move to the safe house. There were cries of pain and disembodied voices everywhere a floor down as he hid in his room that day, away from all the unforgiving cries of misery as he read through the fine, cursive letters of Astoria's letter. The smell of parchment mixed with her scented perfume of vanilla was a momentary rapture against the sadistic maltreatment of the Dark Lord towards his own followers.

 _July 28_ _th_ _, 1997_

 _Dearest Draco,_

 _I am so terrified. I'm not hurt in any way! I'm simply terrified of what's to come. I don't know when I'll ever see Hogwarts or you again. There's too much darkness these days that it's hard to keep up with what little light is left. It seems that even the greatest of hope can be easily crushed._

 _But not mine. Not my hope that we will cross paths again. Not my hope that beats with the possibility of your survival. Not my hope that one day this would all be over soon. Alas, we and the world truly have a long way to go._

 _Know that I think of you every day and that I miss you dearly. I can only wish for the days for when we said everything to little to nothing at the Astronomy tower. The memories seem ages ago, but it still remains one of the fondest I hold on to._

 _Please be safe. And don't lose hope. As Dumbledore would say, "Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light."_

 _All my love,  
Astoria_

Draco now wished she had written to him more after that last letter. It was either she had completely given up on him or that she was captured and being tortured somewhere. He greatly feared the latter, but was given the most merciful of relief everyday whenever he doesn't see her walking into the large drawing room doors to meet her doom before the Dark Lord.

Every time he was asked to hurt someone, he held onto Astoria's letters—as if hoping they were secretly portkeys that would take him away from his wretched life. When he was forced to torture Rowle for letting Potter, Granger and Weasley get away in that muggle coffee shop; he thought of torturing Voldemort once more and slithered back to his hole to sleep with her letters hidden under the covers of his pillows.

Astoria seemed to be the only person that he could hope and care to think of that wasn't family. She was his light; the beacon that still keeps him going during those dreadful and traumatizing times. If only she were here… and yet, Draco would have preferred her to be far… as _far away_ from all of it as possible.

And his heart could not have broken more when the Death Eaters had finally taken over the Ministry; and soon, the requirement for **all** students to return to Hogwarts. If Astoria were still alive, that means she'd be going back to, not Hogwarts, but a slaughterhouse for muggle-borns and blood traitors. Draco wished he knew how to protect her from that, but he couldn't even protect himself even if he tried. What difference would it make if he did Astoria?

These days, it would seem that death would surely be kinder than anything that he was about to face.

* * *

 **September 1997**

As per Ministry order, the Great Hall at Hogwarts was occupied to the brim with students. Draco couldn't help but feel pity and anger at the stupidity of some brave muggle-borns that **dared** to return. They hid behind their half-blood or pure-blood friends, making him wonder how they managed to slip through the muggle-born registry. Sometimes, he believed that Snape and the Carrows deliberately let them slip so that they can have the pleasure of torturing them in front of the other students.

There was a great change in staffing for the new school year. From being head of house, Severus Snape had become Headmaster at Hogwarts since the shift in the Ministry. Slytherin was now headed by the bumbling idiot of a professor Slughorn. For Snape's deputies, he just about hired callous murderers into Hogwarts by making Amycus and Alecto Carrow his right hand man and woman. He had to snort at the fact that Snape hadn't hired Greyback as staff if the Headmaster actually wished for more than just muggle-born murder in the halls of the school.

Apart from the disturbing changes in the school, what rattled him more was the fact that Astoria had returned to Hogwarts; along with her sister, Daphne. He knew as soon as Astoria entered the Prefect's compartment on the Hogwarts Express. They had only spared each other glances, but neither did anything to speak to the other as they were briefed by the Head Boy and Girl, Anthony Goldstein and Sue Li. To his surprise, neither of them seem to be Slytherins; but were nevertheless both proud Ravenclaws. After their briefing, Astoria was the first to rush out of the compartment. Whether she was avoiding him or not made his heart shrivel up. Was it because he hadn't written back to her?

The Greengrass sisters sat _far_ apart in the Great Hall, rather unlike them, Draco observed. They were often seated together, if not always, but now—Daphne was situated next to Pansy whilst Astoria was far up the end of the table, conversing silently with Hestia and Flora Carrow and avoiding any sort of attention as she possibly could, despite the gleaming Prefect badge pinned on her chest.

Sometimes, he thought he caught Astoria's eye as he glanced at her every minute or so. Once, they stared at each other long enough for Astoria to send him a comforting smile. Though her lips wavered in fright, she still seemed a beacon of light in a sea of dull and terrified of people.

There were about fifteen first years to be sorted, all looking frightened as the Hat sorted them into houses. Any lucky pure-blood was sorted into Slytherin, but when a muggle-born had been sorted to Slytherin—the Carrows shoved the poor little girl into Hufflepuff despite the hat's wishes. Some of the professors were completely livid, but hadn't a say in it when Snape said nothing. Apparently, desecrating the school's history meant little to him.

The student body was then briefed with their new subjects. Muggle Studies were then compulsory subjects for all students, but instead of the wishy-washy tales of muggle and wizard peace—Alecto Carrow was to head the class with vile and derogatory information on how muggles were scum and that they were the higher beings. But that was merely child's play compared to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Or, that is to say, _Dark Arts_ now headed by Amycus Carrow. Draco used to dabble finely on the dark arts, but he had a feeling he wouldn't know how to stomach the performance of it and more this year when his own person was nothing but a crumbling mess of trauma and stress.

After the less-than-caring speech of Severus Snape on certain rules and regulations—this part Draco didn't care to listen to—they were finally dismissed. As Prefect, Draco had a proclivity for causing immense chaos amongst the first years. However today, he left that job to Pansy; who _reveled_ in the power she felt rightly possessed to by pushing the first years down the stairs towards the dungeons. Draco stood back, letting the other Prefects do their work. It's not like he valued the position much these days, let alone last year. He rather let the others have their fun.

The only person that seemed disinterested in causing mayhem amongst the Slytherin Prefects was Astoria. Some first years, however, were wise enough to stay behind and choose the more tolerant Prefect, Astoria—who seemed to be attempting to calm one of the children down from their crying. Draco stood a mere long chair away when he overheard their conversation.

"It's okay, Mary. You and the other girls can come with me. I won't hurt you." Astoria cooed at a young girl in blonde pigtails who sobbed fretfully after watching some of her fellow first years be pushed around by Pansy and the others.

A crowd of five first year Slytherins huddled around Astoria frightfully, but nodded nevertheless at her gentle sway. When Astoria finally managed to keep the young ones at bay, she began to lead them down to the dungeons. Draco soon followed suit, trying not to be too conspicuous as they made their way into the house common room.

Once the passage behind them came to a close, he stood back once more and watched as Astoria toured the lot to where their dormitories would be. By the time the first years felt comfortable enough with Astoria's reassurance, they bounded up some stairs before disappearing to their rooms. The common room was empty by the time the last trickling first years retired for the evening.

Astoria prompted for one of the cushions in the common room, stopping only when she finally turned to see him. There were a number of fretful emotions that crossed Astoria's features upon seeing him. Somehow, he was grateful to read relief most of all upon it.

"I thought you were out doing rounds with Pansy." Astoria started, clearing her throat as she rounded the cushion to meet him.

"Let Pansy and the others have their fun on that." Draco replied placidly before taking a seat on the cushion Astoria had intended to sit on. He looked up to her briefly before setting his gaze on the emerald flames that danced in the fireplace before him. "I saw you with those first years."

"They were terrified. Despite their pure blood and everything—I tried to tell them that their blood status would keep them safe. But these days… _no one_ seems to be." Astoria lamented as she sat next to him, her gaze just as set on the flames as his. "Of course I didn't tell them that. I had to lie to them… give them some hope even if it was just for a fraction of a second… they're still so young."

"Quite like you to do that, give children a false sense of hope," Draco scoffed. "But I suppose it did shut them up to make them go to their rooms."

Silence befell them as they stared at the emerald fireplace. Unlike the usual comfortable silence he had gotten so used to in the past, this one felt rather tense—as though something unspoken needed to be said but was being held back for the sake of peace. Draco had a feeling it was his fault for it, of course. All those letters and he never even bothered to write back to her.

"Your letters," Draco finally blurted, perhaps an octave too high before he tried to sound more masculine as he looked at her. "I couldn't write back. I couldn't risk it, even just to send you a present on your birthday. If they knew of my connection to you, they'll try to use you against me. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if it were to happen."

Astoria nodded, still not looking at him. "I understand. I didn't even realize what it must have been like for you. I was being irrational, reckless, _even_. I'm so sorry, Draco." She croaked and shook her head, her bright green eyes brimming with tears before she turned to face him. "But I had to try. I wouldn't have been able to forgive _myself_ if I hadn't. I-I thought you were _dead_."

Draco's heart lurched considerably, and without even thinking, he pulled her into his arms—allowing Astoria to sob tearfully onto his shoulder. He felt the need to cry as well, his eyes already welling up with tears; but he refused to let them fall. Instead, he held Astoria in his arms and clung to her as though she were the last bit of hope left on earth.

"I had terrible dreams… _nightmares_ of what might have happened to you. I couldn't differentiate dream from reality because it all felt so real." Astoria sputtered between heavy sobs before pulling away. Her hands reached for his face, and the warmth of her touch brought him some semblance of peace despite her fretful declarations. "You could not imagine my relief when I saw you at the train. I wanted to… I wanted to talk to you, but there were too many people. I didn't want you to be implicated should they find you talking to me. I'm already a blood traitor in my own element. We can't… we can't…"

"We can't be around each other, I know," Draco said a little more harshly than he had intended. Astoria choked but nodded tiredly in reluctant agreement. He held her hands on his face, pulling them away so that he could fill the spaces between her fingers.

"Astoria, be careful. _Please_ be careful. I know what you think of all of this, of what's to come. But promise me… **promise** me you won't give them _any_ reason to hurt you. I can't protect you. I won't be able to. My word is _nothing_ these days because my family is all but powerful enough to make commands."

It hurt him to say it—the very words that he had been holding back for so long.

 _I can't protect you_.

The truth stung even more than when he thought of it in his head. But Astoria seemed to know, and even understand that truth because she was nodding fretfully as she cried. His eyes scanned the common room briefly, suddenly hearing footsteps bounding down the stairs. As if by instinct, they both pulled away from each other's touch—jumping spaces apart as Blaise Zabini entered the space.

Draco had not seen Blaise since the last time his friend visited him in the hospital wing. From what he's heard these days, Blaise's mother insisted on neutrality like the Greengrasses. But knowing his friend, he would always pick the winning side. At least, that's what he assumed Blaise would do.

Blaise seemed a lot less downtrodden than he had when he'd been grieving over losing Daphne to Theodore Nott. But after the rumors that circulated the delayed union, Blaise seemed a lot better now. He gained back the weight he had lost during his mooning, and he now seemed more upbeat—although there was still a hint of that ghostly look in his eyes, as though he would never get tired of being in pain.

"Don't stop on my account," Blaise drawled on playfully, crossing his arms on his chest as he stared at Draco and Astoria seated far apart from each other. "It's not like everyone doesn't already know."

Blaise then walked up to them and occupied the space between Draco and Astoria on the couch. He sighed tiredly and leaned back to close his eyes, casually interrupting them as though this were completely normal. Astoria sniffed and wiped tears off her eyes. Draco shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do with the two now that Blaise was there.

"Well, not _everyone_ , but there's some lot that knows," Blaise went on casually, finally opening his eyes to stare at Astoria first then Draco. "A shitty start of the year, mate."

"How else would you describe it?" Draco said gruffly.

Blaise laughed humorlessly before looking into the flames.

"I'm not taking any sides this year. Fuck the Death Eaters and fuck the muggle-loving lot. No offense, Tori," Blaise turned to Astoria apologetically. Astoria smiled at him sadly. "I just need the year to be over. Merlin, _I wish_ mum had just chucked me in Asia. Bloody Death Eaters hunted us down in Italy so I could be dragged back into this hell hole."

"What is it exactly that you wanted to say, Blaise?" Draco asked impatiently this time. "I know you didn't just come down here to talk about the bloody weather."

"You're right," Blaise nodded and sighed once more. "I actually just wanted to check on you two. I tried writing to both of you in the summer, but _neither_ of you seemed to think me human now that the world's gone to fucking hell."

"Avery intercepts my letters at the manor. I could only grab one." Draco admitted, trying to avoid both Blaise and Astoria's gaze.

"I was in France. I got your letters when we went back to Greengrass manor in late August." Astoria explained, her eyes still red from all her crying. "Daphne forbade me to write to you while there. I'm so sorry."

"Well, good news is you're _both_ alive." Blaise grunted disinterestedly, probably still shaken by the mention of Daphne's name. "But forget it. You listen to me, you lot. Don't go into any trouble this year. Shit's about to go down and Merlin knows there's only so little hope left in this purgatory."

"I think we're well aware, Blaise," Draco replied lazily, growing slightly irritated since he wanted to continue his conversation with Astoria. "Get on with it."

"Just… stick together, is all." Blaise tried to say, staring between the both of them. "Despite what you may think, I'm on the side of the people I care about—which is _both_ of you. Hell, even Daphne, if we're being blunt now that we'd probably die any time soon."

"How encouraging," Astoria choked sarcastically, but this time, a small, playful smile graced her plump lips. "Do go on."

" _You're_ my best mate." Blaise turned to Draco, and Draco felt stricken with guilt for some reason. His dark friend then turned to Astoria. "And _you're_ like a little sister to me, Tori. I want you to be careful most of all. Draco can handle himself, but you? You've got a sharp tongue and questionable opinions that would get you killed. Hold your thoughts to yourself and stay out of trouble."

"And you? What do you mean to do this year?" Draco asked, surprised now that Blaise had confessed where his loyalties lie. "Get under the good graces of the Carrows, no doubt?"

"What else could you do? Survival is key. You bow to those in power, make yourself look docile before you steal that power from them." Blaise declared seriously before turning to Draco. "I heard what you said. It's true, you may not have control over who the Carrows want to hurt, but if they ever try to hurt Astoria, I will do my best to protect her. My family name is still as pure and clean as it could be now that my mother's found a way to worm herself into an allegiance with the Death Eaters. If I have to use that to my advantage to protect those I care for, I will."

Draco had never felt a more respectable admiration for Blaise than he did now. Astoria seemed to feel the same as a look of shock and genial esteem crossed her features. Before anyone knew it, Astoria had thrown herself at Blaise to attack him with a hug. After recovering from his shock, Blaise patted Astoria's back before the younger Slytherin pulled away.

Astoria turned towards the common room entrance before meeting Draco and Blaise's gaze. "I have to go. They'll suspect me if I miss my rounds tonight. I'll… I promise I'll be careful."

Once Astoria stood, she placed a kiss on Blaise's forehead before she leaned down to Draco and placed one on his cheek. Astoria shot them one last fretful look before finally leaving the common room.

The feel of Astoria's lips lingered on his right cheek, and he was certain his cheeks were flushed red from the genuine notion.

"She's going to get herself killed out there." Blaise said worriedly, his face hard now that he met Draco's gaze.

"Then make sure she doesn't." Draco nodded to him, forming an agreement.

Draco knew the impending doom of the school year. But at that point in time, he simply didn't know how much terror could happen in the span of ten months or even more now that the Dark Lord has returned.

The hope that Astoria seemed to help him tether to grew colder and darker knowing the horrors that awaited the wizarding world in the future.

* * *

 **AN:** My sincerest apologies for the extremely late update! As it is, updates will be regularly infrequent from here on out as I'll be graduating soon and settling last minute college papers to pass. However, as a reprieve from my late update, expect the next chapter to be up next week by Monday. As such, thank you for reading this week's chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Leave me your theories or any other things you'd like in the reviews section below! I always love reading your reviews. It definitely makes my day and is one of the more important drives that pushes me to keep writing for the story of our favorite OTP (at least they're **_my_** favorite OTP). Don't forget to follow/favorite for more updates!

Thank you again for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed!

 **See you soon,  
** _EMPG22HoPe_


	23. Chapter 23: Astoria

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _EMPG22HoPe_

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three: Astoria**

 **October 1997**

September melted into October as the new school year continues to be even more dreadful than Astoria had anticipated. She was starting to see what Daphne meant about false hope and staying neutral in with what's been happening inside Hogwarts lately. But Astoria, as she is, has always been defiant of anything she didn't think was right. Some might even say she has a bit of Gryffindor in her, and she may as well be proud to say it if it means doing what was right.

Before going back to Hogwarts, Cassandra and Cepheus Greengrass made some precautions to move Astoria into the Carrow twins'—Hestia and Flora's— dormitory. They thought that if Astoria was closer to the nieces of the deputy headmasters; her sharp tongue and questionable opinions might be overlooked by Amycus and Alecto. She doubted it would work, but she appreciated her parents' method of keeping her safe nonetheless.

It turns out; she actually enjoys Hestia and Flora's company. They've hardly spoken to each other during Slug Club dinners in the past year, but Astoria later regretted it being so when she finally moved into her new dormitory. The two other girls they shared the room with mostly kept to themselves, and knew better than to talk to either Astoria—the blood traitor—or the twins, the nieces of the deputy headmasters.

Hestia and Flora were likely the only girls she felt she could confide in safely. They had taken Daphne's place in that department, which was more than Astoria could ask for. She couldn't do much of confiding with Luna, and she felt incredibly guilty for it. But she knew that the more she spoke to Luna, the more difficult it would be for both of them; especially since Luna was a proud member of Dumbledore's Army.

It surprised her how the twins haven't ousted her to their aunt and uncle, knowing how defiant she was to the new school curriculum, especially the new _Dark Arts_ subject. But it's not like the twins had anything to oust when Astoria herself was doing a well-enough job on her own being spiteful towards the medieval methods of Amycus and Alecto's subjects.

"Honestly, it's like you have a death wish," Flora Carrow told her off one Saturday morning as they walked out of the Great Hall after breakfast. "Or something similarly ghastly."

Astoria shot Flora what was hopefully an apologetic look. Yesterday had not been a very good _Dark Arts_ lesson, considering how Astoria had yet again voiced her dislike for the subject's newer and more "advanced" ways of procuring dark magic inhumanely. It must have taken some very drastic convincing from Hestia and Flora to stop their uncle from killing her on sight.

"I don't see why you would even bother, Tori. People have been doing dark magic for centuries, _eons_ , even. It's not something new." Hestia added with a quirk of a brow beside her.

"But to teach them to _underage students_? It's distressing!" Astoria could not shake off the way half the class looked when Amycus taught them how to use the Imperius Curse. She can't even imagine what they must be feeling, let alone students that were younger than them likely experiencing the same lessons. "What's next? They're going to start teaching us how to use the Killing Curse? Merlin knows plenty of angry students would want to start using that on each other sometime soon."

Hestia slowed in her tracks, causing Astoria to hang back with her.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do—but you're not making it any easier for me and Flora to keep you from being punished in front of all those other students." Hestia complained, although she retained a more patient tone compared to Flora. "We can only protect you for as much as we possibly can. You have to stop doing this, or at least hold your tongue until the end of lessons. Please, for your safety and if you wish to keep your life."

Flora, who had been in the lead of their walk, looked behind her shoulder before stopping and turning to Astoria.

"Plus, we can't keep making the excuse that spilling pure-blood would be a waste to them. Blood traitor is just as bad as muggle-borns these days." Flora added gravely. "We're running out of excuses, Tori. Soon enough, Uncle Amycus could give a shit if he starts hurting his own nieces."

Astoria was affronted. Perhaps she had been rather selfish in the past month. The last thing she would want was for Flora and Hestia to get into much trouble as her. She didn't even realize she was also risking the lives of her friends with her defiance. And yet, even as she heeded the twins' words—there was always that gut feeling that stuck to her that made her see differently.

Before she could answer Flora, she caught something move at her left peripheral. A student dressed in Hufflepuff robes hobbled out of the dreadful _Dark Arts_ classroom Astoria had grown to hate. She saw the student's body quiver, causing Astoria's heart to sink into her stomach.

"I-I have to go." Astoria told the twins, barely looking at them this time as she paid more attention to the student that was now holding onto a protruding wall for balance. "I'll see you guys later."

"Astoria—" Hestia warned, but Astoria was already making her way towards the Hufflepuff who stood shaking at the end of the hallway.

Hestia and Flora's calls fell on deaf ears as Astoria approached the student cautiously.

"Do you need any help?" Astoria asked carefully.

The Hufflepuff jumped in surprise, whirling to see who had caught her off guard. She was a pink-faced girl with blonde hair, silver eyes full of tears as she took a frightful step back away from Astoria. Astoria soon recognized the girl to be Hannah Abbott, one of the Prefects she met in the Prefect compartment in the train.

Even though Astoria was younger, Hannah drew out her wand and pointed it at her threateningly.

"What do _you_ want? Are you here to hurt me too? Get the job done, ey?" Hannah asked defiantly, though her voice quivered as she spoke. "I've told Amycus that I won't do it again, I swear! Just please leave me alone!"

"I'm not here to hurt you, Hannah. I promise." Astoria shook her head as she stayed where she was, even though she was compelled to come closer. "I'm Astoria, remember? I'm one of the new Slytherin prefects."

"Of course! _A Slytherin_. You'd use your new authority against me, I bet." Hannah testified, her face scrunching up in disgust. Even as she held her wand aloft, Astoria did nothing to take out hers. The Hufflepuff's hand shook as she pointed at Astoria. "Well, I may have little authority, but I'm still Prefect too! I can take away your points as much as you can with me!"

Astoria realized then that she wasn't the first Slytherin Prefect Hannah's had the displeasure of coming across. She could easily put together how her fellow Slytherins were using their new-found authority against any other innocent student. This enraged her, but she kept her cool on the outside.

"I'm not going to do that. Look, here." Astoria brandished her wand, causing Hannah to squeal but she kept her wand pointed still. Carefully, Astoria leaned down to put her wand on the floor before leaning back up to show her empty hands. She then kicked her wand towards Hannah, the wood rolling to a stop at the Hufflepuff's feet. "See? No wand. Please, Hannah. I'm not here to hurt you."

Hannah looked shaken, her gaze switching between the Slytherin's rosewood wand at her foot then at Astoria. She remained skeptic and fretful for a moment before she slowly lowered her wand, sniffling before taking the wand from the floor.

"What happened to you?" Astoria asked meticulously, taking small steps towards Hannah.

The Hufflepuff met Astoria's gaze before wiping off her tears with the sleeve of her robes. "Detention with Amycus. Apparently, detention means the Cruciatus curse. It could have been much worse, but you know how… _lenient_ he can be."

Astoria's heart lurched considerably. No wonder Hannah was shaking all over. She's heard of stories of people having nerve and brain damage from being exposed too long under the torture curse, and she fears Hannah might be in the same condition.

"I'm so sorry." Astoria choked, her eyes welling with tears—but she held them back to look strong. "How long… how long were you in there?"

Hannah shrugged as she shoved her wand back into her robes. "Only about ten minutes, I believe. But it felt like _hours_ , days, even. It's…" She paused briefly, looking at Astoria carefully before looking down at the rosewood wand in her hand. "It's as terrible as they say it is."

"I can't believe they would do that." Astoria shook her head in disbelief. She knew that they would resort to teaching dark magic, but to use it on students as punishment was more dangerous than she could have thought possible. With a new vigor to her step, Astoria drew closer to offer her arm to Hannah. "Let me help you to the hospital wing. It's a bit far, but I think we can make it in time to get you a potion from Madame Pomfrey."

The pink-faced girl stared at Astoria's offered arm skeptically. But after moments of silent debate, Hannah took to putting her weight on Astoria's hand before they slowly made their way towards the hospital wing. As they walked, Astoria tried to keep Hannah distracted by letting her talk about everything and anything; a slight distraction from the aftermath of the cruciatus curse's pain.

She learned that unlike the more _child's play_ version of _Dark Arts_ for the younger years, the seventh years were being taught to cast the Cruciatus curse… _on each other_. This made Astoria want to vomit the breakfast she'd just consumed earlier.

"Obviously, the Slytherins have the better advantage. Alecto lets them take the first lead, leaving the rest to be bait to suffer." Hannah explained at one point as she buckled under her own weight despite being helped to move along. As they neared the double doors of the hospital wing, the Hufflepuff took a good look at her before asking. "You're Daphne Greengrass's sister, right?"

Astoria froze at the final question. Her relationship with her sister had greatly thinned since the start of the year. Daphne had become more arrogant and reckless this year, especially under the influence of Pansy and her gang of dreadful Slytherin girls. In fact, so arrogant that she took on the word she told Astoria on her birthday.

 _I hope you know that I will not acknowledge you as my sister if you keep up this act at school._

Daphne had treated and looked at her like she was a speck of dirt under her boots. It nearly tore her apart just the way her older sister had completely abandoned her to the wolves. Astoria was certain that if she were ever under any trouble, she doubted her sister would come bounding to the rescue. She had never felt more alone, as though some part of her had gone missing and refused to return unless she gave in.

In spite of Daphne's insistence and her change in the views of how things were, Astoria still refused to bow to the pressing patriarchy that's occurred in the wizarding world. She would rather sacrifice her family than sacrifice the sanctity of her honor. There were worst things.

"Is that what they're calling me now these days?" Astoria asked lightheartedly at last, trying to force a smile as she pushed one of the doors to the hospital wing open.

Hannah smiled faintly as they hobbled inside. "Not really, but your sister and her friends have made quite an impression on Alecto these past couple of weeks. First in line to torture the living soul out of us. Her lot and Pansy's boyfriend, _Malfoy_."

This time, Astoria really did stop in her tracks. She stared at Hannah with furrowed brows, her heart racing in both pain and question. Was Draco truly… was he _helping_ the others torture other students?

It couldn't be. A part of her refused to believe it, refused to believe that Draco would even succumb to… and yet, why shouldn't he? To preserve himself. To keep himself from getting killed. That seemed to be the only explanation she could think of, the only one that made the most sense to her. She felt he probably already knew how to cast that curse long before the school year started, especially with all those Death Eaters housing Malfoy manor the last couple of months. And yet, somehow she had hoped he would resist—just like he resisted with Dumbledore.

But could she really blame him? Would she have done the same to save her own skin? Her mind screamed the possibility of a yes, but her heart defied with the utmost stomp of a no. Astoria couldn't… no, _wouldn't_ hurt anyone deliberately even if it meant to save herself. She would lay down her life herself long before she could ever resort to something so brutal.

She had not spoken much to Draco since her conversation with him in the common room with Blaise. Although she had a feeling he might be trying to communicate still through Blaise, who had been tailing her inconspicuously most days. That day had been as much of an agreement as anything. It was too dangerous for either of them to be too close together at this point in time if she wanted to save her own neck.

"Merlin, not another one!" The sound of Madame Pomfrey's voice interrupted her musings, the matron already trudging angrily towards Astoria and Hannah. Her heart felt as though it had been nicked by an arrow when she saw the matron glare at Astoria. What had she done? Did Madame Pomfrey think _she_ did this to Hannah?

"Our numbers grow daily. I'm surprised they haven't already shut down the hospital wing with all your patients, Madame Pomfrey." Hannah tried for a light-hearted banter, but winced when she looked as though she had twisted a muscle or two.

At Hannah's proclamation, Astoria's eyes swept the place and was shocked to see so many students in bed—all sporting injuries, some still fresh with blood on their noses, or teeth and hands caked with blood. Some students were even standing beside other beds, or sitting on benches, waiting on for any available beds. It made Astoria's stomach lurch. She hadn't been to the hospital wing since the start of the year, by some _miracle_ considering her weak immune system—and yet, never in her history of staying in this part of the castle long had she seen so many students in pain.

Was _this_ the new regime the school's been promoting? Picking off each student that made one wrong move before sending them crawling to the hospital wing? It all felt so wrong.

"I'm good from here." Hannah told Astoria before pulling away gently. " _Thank you_ , Astoria. You've… surprised me. I will never forget this, or you."

Madame Pomfrey raised a brow. At least now the matron believed she hadn't been the cause of Hannah's misfortune.

Astoria blinked twice before smiling solemnly. "I would have done anything to help. No one deserves to be treated this way."

Hannah fished out Astoria's rosewood wand before handing it to her. "Sorry I jumped on you like that… or that you had to give me your wand to prove yourself."

As she accepted her wand from Hannah, she twisted the wood in her hand. It was such a powerful thing, a wand; having the power to create things, but also destroy them.

"Hey, when you're not busy being brainwashed by the Carrows into the whole pure-blood supremacy thing…" Hannah started before grinning brightly. "Perhaps you and I could talk sometime. I think you might be of good use to some lot of mine."

Astoria's face lit up for the first time that day. "Truly?"

Hannah nodded; a twinkle in her silver eyes. "You're a good one, Astoria. Let's hope you stay that way."

* * *

Her encounter with Hannah Abbott wasn't the first. After word has reached the castle that seventh years were being forced to practice the cruciatus curse, more and more students—even younger students now—were being tortured; causing an uproar towards the Headmaster to shut down the hospital wing for a period of time due to the overflow of students.

It didn't sit right with Astoria. How were the other students who weren't lucky enough to be drafted into the hospital wing tending to their injuries? Were they just given prescriptions to sleep the night off, or were they being sent to St. Mungo's with the hospital wing now so heavily overflowed with students? Or were they simply left to fend for themselves?

A week has passed since Astoria helped Hannah to the hospital wing, and already, she felt the growing tension of that arise every day since the start of the year. Everyone had been right. There was no light here, no Dumbledore to save them now. Some of many still banked on the hope that Harry Potter would find a way to save them, hence why he was away. Many just assumed Harry wouldn't be stupid enough to come back and lay his life out for the Dark Lord. Whatever Harry Potter was doing out there, Astoria just hoped he had some kind of plan to help them.

Astoria stumbled briefly, far too lost in her thoughts to even recognize the path Luna was taking her that day. Sundays were meant for her studying, especially with O.W.L.S looming so far ahead, yet it felt like a noose wrapped around her neck everyday in spite of the other nooses that seemed to be waiting to hang her without a thought.

"Luna, where exactly are we going?" Astoria asked, trying to keep up now as she let out puffs of tired breath. She wasn't exactly feeling well today, either. But she went off anyway, especially since how Luna seemed so eager to show her something.

"You'll see, I promise!" Luna told her with a slight smile as she hopped on happily up the seventh floor.

Astoria recognized the place where Luna led her now. It was where Draco had told her he'd been going to in order to fix the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement; one of the very few things he revealed about his mission, never knowing what he had intended to do with it, only that he needed it. When she realized later on that he had been the one that sent the Death Eaters into the castle the night Dumbledore died, she began to regret the sight of it.

They stopped before the very wall she last saw Draco with Crabbe and Goyle. Astoria knew about the Room of Requirement, having read it in one of the books the restricted section had to offer. But she never truly needed it at any given time. All she knew was that she had to be very specific in order to enter the room she wanted to be in.

"This goes to the Room of Requirement," Astoria confirmed for herself. "Or at least one of them, as much as I've read. What are we doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to show you something. People are on the other side, by the way. Best we don't keep them waiting." Luna answered dreamily before turning to the wall. "Now, I need you to think of a safe place. Somewhere… somewhere people can gather around to support each other. Try to think harder, though. You've got a lot of nargles surrounding your head, Astoria. They can tamper with concentration."

Astoria smiled at her friend's quirkiness genuinely before closing her eyes and attempting to concentrate. _I must get into a safe place… somewhere students would feel secure without having to worry about what's out there… a safe place…_

The mantra came to her three times before she heard the rustle of iron and wood scrape against each other. Her eyes flew open; surprised to see the sight of a door slowly forming out of the wall that had been completely blank earlier. Two double oak doors with intricate iron veins stood before them, finally forming itself completely with a mighty _clang_.

Luna pushed one of the doors open before turning to beckon Astoria to follow.

As she stepped into the room, Astoria began to make sense of what she was seeing.

The room was filled with hanging hammocks. Several bunk beds, couches and tables were pushed to the side. In the middle of the room, at least about fifteen students stared at them—many of whom displayed injuries that were being tended to by other students as they all sat on cots and blankets.

To the side stood a dark-skinned student, older than the rest of the students that milled around. He was hunched over what seemed to be a microphone and some other muggle technology, barely sparing her a glance.

The walls were covered with banners of the houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff; save for one painting of a girl holding a book close to her chest. She had not been surprised to see the lack of Slytherin banners shaping the room together.

Astoria had only heard stories about this group of students two years ago. She often always thought it was just a conspiracy in which Umbridge had been so eager to create in order to ruin the very fabric of Harry Potter's being. But now, seeing them all staring at her, all wide-eyed; many looking on in shock, others sporting glares that could burn holes right through her, she was starting to believe that Umbridge might not have lost her head after all.

"Ah, I see everyone's all gathered up!" Luna proclaimed jovially in spite of the mixed mood inside the room.

One of the students stood up and she recognized that person to be Hannah Abbott. She stood sis wmiling compared to all the others that were still seated.

"We've been expecting you, Astoria." Hannah declared, her silver eyes glinting. "Welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

* * *

 **AN:** It's a short one this week, and again, I apologize for the delay! I was extremely sick with tonsilitis last week that I wasn't able to post this chapter as promised. I have just recently graduated from college and am now working on applying for jobs. That's right, adult life is kicking me in the face now. But this doesn't mean I'll stop writing for _If I Lose Myself_. I will continue writing this fanfic to the best of my ability. As such, thank you so much for your never-ending patience and love for this work. This fanfic would not be possible without your support as a reader!

Before we dive into next week's chapter, I'd just like to take a little **survey.** I would love to know what your favorite Draco and Astoria scene in this fanfic is so far! We're well into the start of part two of this entire fanfic, and yet, I haven't thought what your favorite scene of our couple might be. Let me know in the reviews!

As always, thank you for reading. If you liked this chapter, don't forget to favorite/follow the story to receive frequent updates. And let me know in the reviews what you think of Luna initiating Astoria into Dumbledore's Army.

That's all for now!

 **See you soon,  
** EMPG22HoPe


	24. Chapter 24: Astoria & Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by **_EMPG22HoPe_**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Four: Draco & Astoria**

 **Trigger warning:** This chapter will contain a scene of violence, such as the use of knives and the appearance of blood. Please proceed at your own precaution, especially if you are easily triggered by previously mentioned concerns. If you wish to skip over those scenes, you may bypass the second half of Astoria's POV.

* * *

 **November 1997: Astoria**

During the course of the last month, Astoria had been sneaking in and out of the Room of Requirement whenever time allows it. Being inducted into Dumbledore's Army was pretty much the cherry on top of her already disgruntled "blood traitor" status at Hogwarts. If her parents or her sister were to find out, no doubt they would have disowned her the very second she even _entered_ the Room of Requirement. But that didn't stop her from helping the group.

Since the inflation of student injuries at the hospital wing, the D.A had been taking the other students who couldn't squeeze in an appointment with Madame Pomfrey under their wing into the room of hidden things. With Astoria's high aptitude for potions and for knowing a number on healing magic, she was actually quite an asset despite being a Slytherin.

Granted, she didn't get much of a great welcome party when she first stepped in. Half the group was a couple skeptic Gryffindors who couldn't be bothered with a _snake_ joining their little den. Arguments ensued the moment Hannah proclaimed her as an official member, one of those included Ginny Weasley—who couldn't keep a proper conversation with Astoria without a sneer or a look of disgust her way.

Not that Astoria could really blame them. The color of her tie was enough indication that she could be the next _Marietta Edgecombe_ of their army, the girl who had apparently betrayed their location to the Inquisitorial Squad back in the day. But for the most part, she was allowed in because Ginny trusted Luna's judgment on her; and Astoria supposed that was more hope and trust than she could possibly ask for.

Her first week in the D.A. had been mostly scouting for injured students courtesy of either the Carrow professors or her own Slytherin classmates. The lot of them didn't trust her to touch the injured students until they simply took her on as a last resort.

"He won't stop bleeding!" Ginny exclaimed as she continued to wrap Michael Corner's arm with a cloth she had ripped off from her own uniform. There was a panic in the Gryffindor's voice Astoria had never heard since she joined the group. "He's been like this for an hour now! I don't think he'll make it."

Everyone else were running around like headless chickens, because if their prime leader, Ginny Weasley, couldn't keep her head over their bleeding member—how else would anyone keep theirs?

"He needs a Blood-Replenishing Potion." Astoria suggested, causing some of the members to look at her as though she had lost _her_ head as well.

"Unless you can sneak into Pomfrey's office—" Ginny started.

"I know how to make one." She interrupted stiffly, staring the red-headed Gryffindor down. "Clean the wound with soap and water. That should buy us some time from infection getting into his system. I can brew the potion in under ten minutes."

Ginny glared at her, trying to consider if she should trust her or not. The other members were staring furtively towards their leader, looking extremely desperate. Perhaps they knew that despite Ginny's best efforts to keep Astoria away from all the action, they too knew that the snake within the den was now their last resort in keeping Michael alive.

Before she could even get Ginny's confirmation, Astoria was already bolting out of the Room of Requirement. Her feet carried her as fast as they possibly could to the dungeons. Despite her own panic setting in, she remained calm as she brewed the potion meticulously. While she considered brewing an entire batch, it would take too long and Michael would have been lost to them.

By the time she came back with a bottle of the potion, Michael was as pale as a corpse and was only catching what little breaths he could muster. When Astoria finally drew the potion into Michael despite Ginny's protest, color slowly came back to the Ravenclaw's skin. The room was silent in anticipation, many likely thinking on whether or not she poisoned him. When Michael's eyes flew open and had risen up in a coughing fit after a few seconds, cheers and sighs of relief exuded from the group.

Cho Chang bolted for Michael, trapping him in her arms as the other members came in to join the fest. Astoria stepped back, beads of sweat running down the sides of her head from all the excessive running and worry. But she smiled in triumph, feeling the exhilaration from saving someone's life.

"I suppose I owe you an apology." Ginny said behind her.

Astoria whirled to meet her. She began to pat out the sweat from her head and brows with a hanky. "I wouldn't trust me either for simply being Slytherin. But I swear I've nothing but good intentions. I want to be a Healer someday, you see. I've got my own… health _issues_ to worry about that needs some healing magic to make it less worst. I suppose I might as well help others along the way while I'm at it."

Ginny nodded, looking at her now for the first time as though she was merely a simple girl and not some traitorous Slytherin ready to pounce for an attack. "You're not so bad, Greengrass. I could get used to a _select few_ Slytherins not trying to kill us."

"I wouldn't have been able to hurt any of you if I had been forced to."

Eventually, she _had_ been forced to.

* * *

When November came, the Carrows thought it was time to test her allegiance.

Astoria felt helpless as she trudged mournfully towards the _Dark Arts_ room at the crack of dawn. But then again, that wouldn't be the first time she felt that way. She'd been called again by the Carrows for what seemed like the umpteenth time. They had a tendency of doing that anyway—bullying her to punish the first years for their transgressions and if she didn't... well, they punish _her_ and receive twice the amount for not doing her "job". As if hurting people, _human beings_ , was an actual job. It was a cruel fate, and she hated every bit of it.

There was a brief pause to her step when she finally arrived before the wooden door of the classroom. She breathed out, hands shaking nervously, her entire body shaking in absolute terror as she pushed her way into the closed area.

There, in the middle of the room, stood Alecto and Amycus Carrow. And before them, kneeling and attempting to dry her sobs, was not a helpless first year, but—

"Luna." Astoria's breath hitched.

Her friend's serene face was blotchy, tear-stained cheeks red from either her crying or Merlin forbid, something the Carrows likely produced. Upon Astoria's voice, Luna looked up to her, blue eyes hopeful. She couldn't but cringe and look at her apologetically. Where was Luna's wand? How did she end up in this situation?

For once, she didn't feel like a hero. Not the way she felt when she was in Dumbledore's Army. Instead, her blood boiled in anger. _No one_ touched Luna and thinks they can get away with it. Not under Astoria's watch. But even then, she was still shaken at the sight of her to make any sort of defiance.

"You're **late,** _little Greengrass_." Alecto spat venomously, dark eyes narrowed at her. "Are you sure you're even a fucking pure-blood? With manners like that, it's hard to imagine you are one."

Astoria said nothing, trying to hold her tongue even more now that there were _two_ of them in one room.

"Be nice, Alecto." Amycus told his sister off, a smirk gracing his calloused lips. "She's new to this, remember?"

"Rubbish!" Alecto scoffed unpleasantly. She walked over to Luna before taking a fistful of her hair into her hand. A loud cry came from her friend as she was dragged towards Astoria. The Carrow shoved the Ravenclaw at her feet, and if she hadn't had any reflexes, she and Luna might have collided terribly. Astoria took Luna in comfort, holding her body to hers protectively.

"This is your last chance, you pitiful girl!" Alecto screeched at her so loudly, that she felt Luna nearly jump away from her in both fear and surprise. "If you don't punish this pitiful loony for her disgusting support for Potter I'll—"

"You'll what?" Astoria asked bravely this time, her green eyes aflame with anger. "Cast the curse on me? Oh, sweet Merlin, what's _bloody_ new? Can't be worse than the last one you did, really. Or what? You'll threaten to hurt my _family_ , who have done nothing but—"

The jarring blow came to her before she even knew it. Astoria's cheek stung at the contact it had made with Alecto's wrinkled hand, a sharp gasp leaving her lips at the pain. She felt Luna trying to pull away from her grasp, likely attempting to get up to fight Alecto back. But she kept a firm grip on her friend. The last thing she wanted was to risk Luna's life.

"Quiet you—" But before Alecto could do the same thing to Luna, Astoria brandished her wand and wordlessly _stupefied_ Alecto. The witch shrieked in surprise and was thrown towards the other end of the room; her head hitting the wall before anyone could say _Nox._

Unfortunately, Alecto's head seemed to be thicker than most when the Carrow stood up from where she laid. But she didn't have enough time to worry about Alecto when Amycus had just shoved Luna away from her. Luna yelped helplessly, but Amycus smacked her hard on the face—the sound snapping reverently that it made Astoria's stomach churn.

"Stop it!" Astoria screamed, her eyes wide in horror at the sight of Luna trying to expel painful breaths before her body collapsed tiredly. She pointed her wand at Amycus this time, every inch of her aflame in vexation at the sight of her friend hurt. But just as she was about to disarm him—she lost touch of her own wand when a loud _expelliarmus_ came from Alecto.

It all came in flashes; her wand being flicked off her hand, Alecto pushing her roughly against the cobblestone floor, her head spinning at the unwelcome contact. Astoria struggled, but the witch kneeling at the tip of her head had her hands pinned ruefully against the floor, her sharp nails digging into her flesh. Amycus Carrow stood above her, his eyes glinting with so much malice that it caused hot tears to spring from her eyes.

"No, please." Astoria begged, though it sounded all gurgled as the world around her spun. Her legs struggled to push Amycus off, but they were soon paralyzed by a spell she knew not of by the wizard who was looking at her with every bit of spite.

"Do it, Amycus!" Alecto shrieked at him, chortling menacingly as she tightened her grip on Astoria's wrist. "Teach this little _blood traitor_ a lesson she will _never_ forget."

Amycus roared with the most unpleasant laughter as he looked down at her dangerously. "No. I think I have something better in mind for this little bitch. Pull up her sleeves."

Astoria's eyes widened and she struggled relentlessly against Alecto's hold. She was smacked in the face once more, her vision blurring considerably as she felt the left sleeve of her robe shoved up against her arm. There was talking between the siblings, but Astoria could only ever hear them distinctly. It was only at the sound of the word _knife_ did Astoria let out an ear-splitting cry.

Her cries had furthered one too many octaves more when she felt the tip of a sharp silver cut the flesh of her wrist. Astoria turned horridly towards her left arm and shrieked in horror as she felt her entire arm convulse in the most unbearable pain. Amycus and Alecto Carrow shrieked with laughter as Amycus dug the knife into her flesh. She twisted and turned, trying to pull herself away but the more she did, the harder and deeper the knife dug into her.

"This ought to be a pretty little decoration for a pretty little girl like you." Amycus grumbled maliciously between cackles, twisting the knife horridly against her skin. Astoria could see red now. "Shut her up, Alecto!"

Amycus's command was now barely distinct above the cries and shrieks that were coming out of her. Astoria tried to breathe, tried to close her eyes and believe that none of this was true, that all of this was just some twisted dream. She'd woken up from what she had hoped was a dream when Alecto cried, " _Crucio!_ "

Astoria's body lurched forward raggedly. Her bones felt like wrought iron as their heaviness held her entire body down. Both of her legs writhed alarmingly, having broken the spell that paralyzed them earlier, as they twisted in odd angles, giving her terrible discomfort. Her arms convulsed haphazardly, and she cried even more when the sudden movement made the knife cutting into her dig deeper into her flesh.

"Stop, please!" Astoria cried out between sobs, and wailed so loud that she was close to deafening herself when the knife seemed to have hit a vein on her wrist. "Please! Please! Stop! I'll do anything! _Anything!_ Just please stop!"

"I don't think I believe you, you filthy _blood traitor!_ " Amycus thundered above her cries.

At this point, Astoria wished she was dead. Everything felt like pure, unsurpassed horror as her body gave in to the pain. Every part of her felt like she was being injected with thousands upon thousands of hot waxed knives. And most candidly, she didn't know which was worst—the knife or the curse itself. It was hard to choose at this point.

Astoria could feel her throat tighten up as harsh tears continue to well from her eyes, blinding her from everything that was happening.

 _Kill me!_ Astoria said shrilly in her head, only realizing too soon that she had actually said the words aloud. " _Kill me! Just kill me! Please make it stop._ "

 _ **JUST KILL ME.**_

"Should we do her a favor by doing what she wants us to, Amycus?" Alecto howled, the unkind laughter adding more to the already excruciating pain Astoria was going through. "Saves us all the trouble, now, doesn't it?"

" _Just kill me!"_ Astoria wailed hoarsely as she shut her eyes, unable to bear any more of it. There was no point in begging for mercy. This was to be her end. Her own blood curse would be kinder than this. " _Please just_ _ **end**_ _it!_ _ **Please**_ _!"_

"No!" Amycus snapped at his sister. "She may be a filthy little piece of rot, but she's still a pure-blood. The Dark Lord would _kill us_ if we got rid of her now."

It felt like hours when it must have only been a few minutes before the torture of it all ended. Alecto had stopped casting the curse on her, cackling ever so victoriously to the side. Astoria could no longer feel a knife digging into her, but there was the cruelest of aftermath of stinging pain at her left wrist, looking awfully numb to the side. She tried her best to look away from what had transpired earlier, but her green, sorrowful eyes caught it.

Written in grating letters with the stain and blotch of blood everywhere within her left wrist, across it, were the words; _ **blood traitor**_.

Astoria held back a sob, which wasn't so hard now. She didn't have the energy to cry to the point of deafening herself anymore. Instead, her body tried to breathe in as much air as possible—but none of that air helped contain the end of what had just happened to her. Another set of tears blinded her eyes before closing them; the sound of the Carrow siblings' heartless mirth resounding throughout the classroom.

She had wished they had just killed her right then and there. Death was, after all, far less painful than what they could have possibly done to her; far less painful than her blood malediction. She didn't know if she'd ever be the same again.

The last thing she heard was the sound of Luna's voice before everything went dark.

* * *

 **November 1997: Draco**

 _Colin Creevey_ – September 27th

 _Natalie McDonald_ – October 1st

 _Orla Quirke_ – October 5th

 _Kevin Entwhistle_ – October 8th

 _Lisa Turpin_ – October 15th

 _Oliver Rivers_ – October 15th

 _Sophie Roper_ —

"Draco, mate, you still up?" came the tired, sleepy voice of Blaise Zabini.

Early morning had come, as far as Draco knew in spite of their windows practically just showing the waters of the Black Lake. Sleep never came easy for him now. And it certainly never did whenever he was at the manor. A part of him had thought he could get a good night's sleep in Hogwarts, away from Voldemort's army of death eaters now desecrating Malfoy Manor. But he had been sorely mistaken since.

Instead of sleeping that day, he had gone through the list of students he had tortured in the past two months. It was a bit sinister, keeping a list in his head of all the people he had hurt—but it gave him even more reason to believe that he was far from any sort of help now. Perhaps if he thought about the people he had hurt—people he had _never meant to_ , but what choice did he have?—it'll make him see the kind of man he truly was.

 _Just like his father_.

The very thinghe didn't want to be.

Back then, he would have been proud to be like Lucius Malfoy. Poised, powerful, and without a lint out of place—the epitome of a perfect pureblood. Until the Battle in the Department of Mysteries. Until his father's imprisonment in Azkaban. Until the _risk_ he had brought on his own family for self-preservation.

No, he didn't think he would **ever** want to be like Lucius Malfoy. His father was a coward. And yet, wasn't he just as much as a coward as his father is now? He could have chosen the path to do good by others, to be just like Astoria—unafraid of toil and pain, risking her own life doing Merlin knows what in defying the Carrows' rule. But he supposed Astoria Greengrass had nothing to lose.

He still had his family to.

"You know I don't sleep, Blaise." Draco muttered tiredly, a yawn expelling from him as he took off from his bed.

Most nights, he just stared at the roof of his four-poster. Other nights, he stayed in the common room, staring into the nothingness of the emerald flames the fireplace provided. He was the walking shell of a man he used to be. And yet, some nights, he sobbed quietly to himself—remembering the look of horror on the students' faces when he had cast the cruciatus curse on them.

 _I'm sorry_ , he wanted to tell them. But the Carrows were watching. So he had to look the part of menacing, prideful pure-blood. Instead, he sneered at his victims, and remained placid as their cries filled whatever room the pitiful student was dragged into.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were bitten by a vampire." Blaise went on as he, too, got up and sat at the edge of his bed, facing Draco. "This can't be healthy for you, Draco."

"I'm well aware of that." Draco grumbled as he rubbed his face with his hands in frustration, feeling his tiredness from his lack of sleep taking its toll on him at last. He had been sleepless for nearly three nights straight, and yet, he still refused to ask for a Sleeping Potion from Pomrey as Crabbe and Goyle once suggested. "What fresh hell do we have on this fine weekend?"

"Amycus said to meet him sometime after breakfast. Merlin knows which unfortunate prick we'll have to torture this time."

When Blaise finally got up to get ready for the day, Draco followed suit. He managed a quick shower before he was out, dressing himself in his white-sleeved shirt and green and silver tie. At his first sight of a mirror, he nearly jumped in surprise; hardly recognizing the man in his reflection.

His grey eyes were more tired, slacked off from its usual bold touch. There were bags under his eyes far worse than last year. He had lost some considerable weight as well, his shirt nearly looking like its being hanged off on a clothesline.

The jarring sight of him was interrupted by the sound of Crabbe and Goyle's snoring, and the occasional creak of Theodore's bed.

"Prat," Blaise mumbled derisively towards Nott's sleeping figure. "You coming?"

"You go on ahead. I just need to go to the _Dark Arts_ classroom. I left my potions homework somewhere in there." Draco waved dismissively, fixing his tie in spite of its perfect form.

"Alright, I'll see you at breakfast, then."

When Blaise finally left, Draco let out a sigh of relief. He didn't feel like talking to Blaise today, or to anyone, for that matter. His aimless days of walking around the castle grounds felt like a habit he wanted to break. Get up, go get breakfast, go to class, be called on by one Carrow to punish some unfortunate student, punish some others, and back to bed.

The routine was eating him from the inside out. Every time he contemplated it, he thought of Astoria's advice—of giving himself the privilege of resistance against what he thought wasn't right. He had all the privilege the world could provide… _except that_.

After a few minutes of trying to pull himself together, he finally waded out of the dormitory and made his way towards the _Dark Arts_ classroom. The halls were slowly starting to fill with students heading for breakfast, but he headed upwards to the third floor.

By the time he's made a work out of climbing up the ridiculous changing flight of stairs, he came upon the serpentine corridor leading up to the classroom. Though before he could take another step, he saw the _Dark Arts_ classroom's door fly open to reveal two figures hobbling out of the space.

Draco grimaced, barely able to recognize the people that were likely under one of the Carrows' punishment. Before he could turn to leave, feeling nauseous at the sight of the students holding each other—he caught the sound of familiar whimpers and a dreamy voice echoing within the hallway. His brows furrowed in question until he saw the familiar blonde head of Luna Lovegood look up to him. The other girl beside her was hunched over, her dark as night hair covering her face.

"Draco, please help!" Luna cried out as she tried to keep the girl aloft. "It's Astoria!"

Suddenly, it was as if the earth was swallowing his entire being whole. Draco couldn't remember how his feet leapt towards Luna and Astoria, how he tried to hold Astoria's body up from the other side, or how he saw the blood _dripping_ from her wrist. Only that the moment he saw the blood, he was desperate to get Astoria, even if it meant stumbling over himself.

Astoria was unconscious, her dead weight a trouble to Draco and Luna as they carried her with attempted quick strides towards the hospital wing. It made his stomach lurch to see some students catch them on their way there, many of them gasping and pointing at the trio as though they'd just seen a ghost far more terrifying than the ones already living in the castle.

Was she dead? Why wasn't she moving? Draco checked for a pulse on her uninjured wrist. _No_ , she was still alive. But could she survive it? She was losing too much blood. So many terrifying questions filled Draco's head from that moment on.

The world, as it seemed, had gone completely deaf as he focused on carrying Astoria. When they finally reached the hospital wing, Draco was pounding on its double doors with shaking hands. He had ripped off a piece of his shirt to press the blood on Astoria's wrist, but it wasn't helping with the amount of blood she was losing.

When one of the doors swung open, Draco barely had time to listen to Pomfrey's berate on how "full" the hospital wing was. He and Luna barreled past her, dragging Astoria to the nearest bed where, to his great surprise and sheer irony, Daphne Greengrass was sporting what seemed to be a head injury.

"Out of the way, Greengrass!" Draco snarled at her.

"Come off it, Malfoy! I was here _first_. You can take your friend and—" Daphne berated back at him, only to stop when she finally caught a glimpse of who Draco and Luna were carrying. If he weren't so desperate to get Astoria to the bed, he would have _gloated_ at the sight of Daphne's face etched with sheer worry for her own sister—someone who he recently learned Daphne had been trying to avoid since the start of the school year.

"Merlin's beard! Astoria!" Daphne leapt off the bed, trotting over to them before finally helping Astoria's unconscious body onto the sheets.

Madame Pomfrey strode towards them angrily, only for her person to pale at the sight of Astoria's state and the blood trickling off the haphazard wrap on her injured wrist.

The matron forced them out of the hospital wing at once, but Draco was reluctant to make a move. Only when Daphne and Luna were now collectively dragging him outside did he finally follow them suit.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Draco whirled angrily towards Luna. "What _happened_ to her? Speak now, Lovegood, or I'll—"

"Keep your bloody voice down, Malfoy!" Daphne screeched at him, wobbling all of a sudden due to the head injury she was still sporting.

Luna sniffed as she faced the door, unable to look Draco in the eye. "It was the Carrows. They wanted her to punish me, for what my father's been writing at _The Quibbler_ about Harry. But they knocked me out before I could do anything. I woke up to her screams and she was just… _lying_ there. They left her… I should have been awake… I should have helped her."

Draco's blood boiled over ten-fold as he gnashed on his teeth in vexation. "Yes, you _should have_ , Lovegood! What was the whole point of being in that stupid Dumbledore's Army of yours if you couldn't even help Astoria!"

"Draco, stop it. There's nothing she could have done." Daphne intercepted dryly.

"Oh, so you're on her side now! All of a sudden you start caring for your sister when she's on the bloody brink of her goddamn death!" Draco barked at her derisively, feeling the frustrations of the last months get to him. The nerve of her. "How fucking quaint, Greengrass!"

"You stay the hell out of it!" Daphne pushed Draco's chest angrily before pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Where were _you_ , huh? Off torturing students like her, I reckon! _You_ should have been there to protect her!"

Draco growled, taking out his wand just as Daphne did before they pointed it dangerously at each other.

" _Stop it_ , please!" Luna begged as she came between them, both wands held aloft at her. "Astoria would not have wanted this. She knew what she was getting into."

"Goddamn it!" Daphne howled in frustration after a moment's breath, putting her wand away before she turned around to kick the door with a loud _thud_. She began to pace around now, chewing on her nails in both worry and anger.

Draco scoffed, but he could still feel his blood rushing from the sight of Astoria's unconscious body, to the idea of who was to blame for her getting hurt in the first place.

 _Zabini_. He promised he'd look after Astoria. And where did that lead her?

He wanted to so badly to blame Blaise for not taking care of her, to blame Luna for not being conscious during Astoria's torture, to blame Daphne for not being a decent sister enough to look after her. And yet, despite the thousands of people he wished to blame—even those that had nothing to do with it—eventually he felt the blame fell on **him**.

As much as he refused to admit it, Daphne was right.

 _He_ should have been there to protect her. _He_ should have been there to keep her away from the Carrows. _He_ should have gotten into the _Dark Arts_ room in time to stop them. So many possibilities came rushing into him, all the scenarios in which he could have changed if he had just been there a few minutes earlier. Had he gone out with Blaise instead of waiting like a blasted fool in the dormitory, he might have caught up to stop it from ever happening.

A wave of regret rushed over him.

 _It's my fault_ , he growled to himself internally. _It's all my fault._

Draco ran a frustrated hand through his locks, fisting a hair-full of them angrily as he tore at them.

A part of him had been right all along. No matter what he did, whether he had been there or not, whether he still spoke to her or not; _**he still couldn't protect her**_. Because he was stripped of the power and of the opportunity to do something about it so many moons ago.

And no amount of galleons to his name will ever be enough to save her.

* * *

 **Trigger warning disclaimer:** I have always been curious as to what happened in everyone's school year during the brief Voldemort regime. I imagine it wasn't pleasant and that many horrible things likely happened to the students there (especially female students that were defiant, like Astoria). But I resisted to pushing into a darker perspective than what I've written, but know that this is exactly how I envision the school year would have become. You think Bellatrix Lestrange was too hard on Hermione? You haven't seen what the Carrows can do to a bunch of students. My apologies if y'all weren't ready for that part, but I truly just felt it needed to be a part of this story as this shapes Astoria's character a little more. Cracking that vision of her innocence into something much more. Whether or not she retains her kindness towards the world after what she just went through, we've yet to find out.

I was actually inspired by Mary Stuart's character from _Reign_ from when she was assaulted in the castle by the assassins that were attempting to take Francis's life. The actress, Adelaide Kane, is the same actress I envision for Astoria. And the post-Mary after that assault was heartbreaking, so expect the same heartbreaking scenario for Astoria in the next chapter.

 **AN:** If I am being truly honest, I do not know when the next chapter is going to come out. I might have a spur of inspiration all week and possibly have a new chapter posted next week, or it could be weeks later. I am in the post-graduation stage where finding jobs can be a pain in the behind. On top of that, I have been getting sick all summer with tonsil issues which has made it difficult to sit down and write chapters. **BUT** this does not mean I have given up on this story. I will still continue writing it, but it simply just might take a while to get those updates. I truly am sorry! But know that this story will still be alive and hopefully be finished by the end of the year.

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter and any theories/thoughts you might have for the coming chapters ahead. Don't forget to follow/favorite the story to receive updates.

 **See you all soon,  
** _EMPG22HoPe_


	25. Chapter 25: Draco

**If I Lose Myself  
** by _**EMPG22HoPe**_

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Five: Draco**

* * *

 **December 1997**

Draco had never been particularly brave. He was determined, perhaps. He was driven by his egotistical tendencies in most cases, yes. But never brave. Being brave meant a reckless abandon for everything he worked hard to protect. Bravery meant doing things without considering the consequences. It also meant throwing his family under the bloody Knight Bus for the sake of doing the "right" thing.

No, Draco Malfoy could never be brave. But he could try to be for _her_.

Heavy footfalls echoed the corridor leading up to the ugly-looking gargoyle statue standing erect at the end. Draco rarely visited the Headmaster's Office, but for this particular reason, he felt he should have done it after Madame Pomfrey shoved him and company out of the hospital wing to heal Astoria.

 _Astoria_.

The thought of her made his heart twinge in all sorts of ways, though right now, it was mostly in pain. Three days passed before Madame Pomfrey finally allowed visitors for Astoria. Apparently, due to Astoria's weak immune system, it had been difficult to keep her from losing more blood. The infection on her wrist where she had been cut had taken longer to heal than most infections. And even then, Astoria was still bedridden from how her body responded to the Cruciatus curse on top of the damage that was done to her wrist.

He had known Astoria for having a weak immune system. The first time she tutored him, she had been sporting a terrible cold. But he never knew it went beyond the usual norm. It was odd, even more when he questioned Daphne why she was so. The older Greengrass simply froze in fear, as though she had been caught in a lie.

His suspicion grew, but he kept it to himself for now.

When Astoria still hadn't woken up after weeks of being bedridden in the hospital wing, Draco began to worry. It was why he stood before the gargoyle statue now to visit its current headmaster. He muttered _Salazar Slytherin_ to the gargoyle. The statue came alive before it leapt aside to reveal a windingly circular staircase leading up to the Headmaster's Tower.

As soon as Draco reached the top, he knocked thrice before pushing the heavy wooden door open.

Severus Snape stood before his desk, glaring at Draco icily. It looked as if he had snapped up from his seat, papers flying everywhere, surprise fell over him.

"Mr. Malfoy, you've clearly lost your manners." Snape drawled out delicately, but his voice dripped with malice. His cold eyes swept the boy before him, looking unimpressed. "And your sense of dignity. Fix yourself, boy."

Draco's brows pinched together in irritation. He knew he didn't look his best today, simply throwing in his white shirt, his trousers and his Slytherin necktie askew. But he didn't feel the need to look the part today. "I need to speak with you."

Snape frowned. "It appears so."

Once he shut the door behind him, Draco made his way up to the headmaster's desk. "The Carrows need to be… _controlled_."

The headmaster raised a brow. "How so?"

"Their forms of punishment have gone beyond what is usual." Draco balled his hands into fists, feeling his anger rise at Snape's attempt to look clueless. "Have you heard of what happened to Astoria Greengrass? I don't particularly like listening to her loony-bin friend Lovegood, but I believe her well enough when she says that the Carrows has decided to use a different method other than unforgiveable curses on their students."

Snape studied him carefully, as though he were some magical creature he needed to think on how best to approach. Then, he sat back on his chair reproachfully, picked up his quill and wrote something down on his parchment, likely resuming his work. But as he worked, he spoke.

"Yes, I have heard about what Ms. Greengrass has been through. An unfortunate circumstance, but one that would not have likely happened if she had simply knew her place." Snape said stiffly. The morning light bled through the high windows, illuminating the headmaster's concentrated face as he continued to write. "That is, to say, if she had just done what they'd ask her too."

Draco's blood simmered, his nails digging harshly into the palm of his hands. "So you've _spoken_ with them?"

"They've expressed their reasons behind their actions and attempted to make them justifiable." Snape replied tonelessly.

" _And_?" Draco nearly yelled, but he kept a tight grip on himself.

The headmaster finally looked up from his work, eyeing Draco curiously. "I do not find it justifiable. But what's done is done."

"So you're not going to do _anything_ about it?" Draco finally snapped, gnashing his teeth. He had a mental image of the Carrows laughing in triumph after having escaped Snape's wrath _and_ having had their pleasure of using Astoria as their plaything. "You're not going to give them some sort of sanction for nearly _killing_ one of your students? Or maybe you just didn't give a damn at all, knowing how Astoria suffered, knowing how she needs to be taken to St. Mungo's now more than ever after being knocked out for an entire month? The infection in her wrist did more damage than the Cruciatus curse. Did you know? Merlin, do her parents even _know_ —"

"Draco," Snape drawled out his name in frustration. He rubbed his forehead impatiently before finally looking up to meet his gaze. "Sit down."

Draco was breathing fire through his nose now, his entire body shaking with vexation, but did as he was told. He plopped onto the seat before Snape's desk, glaring at the headmaster still as he scratched his nails against the chair's arms angrily, if only to hold himself back from snatching that bloody quill from his professor's hand.

Once Snape made sure Draco wasn't going to act out, he put his quill down and stared at him placidly. "I was told that Ms. Greengrass should wake anytime this week now. The infection is, as it is, slowly healing and needn't a St. Mungo's treatment. By the grace of Merlin, it seems she's been through worst cases than a knife to the wrist."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped when Snape raised a hand to shut him up.

"As for the Carrows, I have forbidden them from mistreating Ms. Greengrass or any other student in such a way again. Should they attempt to do so again after she's been released from the hospital wing, I assure you that they will receive the utmost consequence if they disobey me." Snape asserted further, still looking emotionless despite his words.

After a breath, the professor asked, "Is there anything else, Mr. Malfoy?"

There was plenty _else_ Draco had to say, but Snape seemed to have answered most of his concerns, at the very least. Well, all except one he had been meaning to ask Madame Pomfrey but haven't had the courage to.

"Her infection… it's unnatural." Draco said slowly, feeling some of his anger dissolve. "Most weak immune systems can recover from that kind of infection after only a couple of days, give or take. Even with the right potions, it should have worked. But it's taken her a month to recover. It's… concerning."

Snape studied him, his dark eyes so unmoving that it unnerved Draco. He always despised that look from the professor, especially in the last year when he had thought of Snape wanting to take the glory of killing Dumbledore for himself. Then he did remember, and he felt the earth swallow him whole. Somehow, he was grateful it hadn't been him.

He didn't know what he would have done if he had to do what he was told to.

"As it is, Madame Pomfrey has shared the same concerns with me, but seems to be undisturbed when she relayed it. It is likely she knows something about the girl's condition that's not… _widely_ known. Despite my best efforts, I haven't the faintest idea of what she knows, but I have my theories." Snape admitted faintly. "Theories you needn't concern yourself with. I am sure whatever it is, Ms. Greengrass will tell you in due time."

Draco frowned. So the headmaster did have an answer to the burning questions and suspicions he's had all month on Astoria's condition. But even if he tried to persuade his former head of house to divulge his theories, he doubted he was going to get much of a straight answer out of him.

"Draco, I do suggest caution." Snape warned, looking somber now as he spoke. "As compelling as your concern for the younger Greengrass is, the Carrows _will_ talk. They are loyal to one wizard and him alone. Should they let slip of your anxiousness towards Astoria's well-being to the Dark Lord, he may use that against you."

"I know that." Draco replied between gritted teeth. Merlin, does he know that. That's why he had been trying to avoid Astoria in the first place. But it seemed that the more distant they were, the more either of them was getting into more trouble than they're worth together. "But I can't just _not_ do anything about it. I care for her. Despite her reckless behavior, her defiance against everything that's been happening… I can't help it if I…"

Draco stopped all of a sudden. He couldn't help it if… _what_ , exactly?

A familiar look came upon Snape's face, one that looked as though he wished to share in Draco's burden, but said nothing of it instead. It made Draco wonder if the professor might have had a similar experience in the past, though he was not daft enough to ask about it in any way.

"Just keep your head down," Snape warned him gruffly this time. "And do as you're told."

That seemed to be the end of their conversation. Despite everything, he always felt that the professor looked out for him like he always had long before Draco even went to Hogwarts. Having the wizard over at Malfoy Manor back then had always been a delight for him as a child, knowing that one of his soon to be professors at Hogwarts and one of his father's most trusted friends, was there to give him little gifts.

Even if Draco wasn't a child anymore, Snape provided his gifts through sound advice. Something he hadn't listened to last year, having wished he did. His sound advice now, however, he meant to listen to.

Draco rose from his seat and nodded at Snape. "I can't protect her. Not with my name or my position or…"

 _My dark mark_ , he wanted to say.

"Just make sure she doesn't get hurt the way she did now. Or any other student in this school. The thought of it, just… the sight of them…" Draco finally said, feeling his resolve peel at the edges. Then, as an afterthought, he added, but meant it in the fullest. " _Please_."

The headmaster gave him a firm nod, and though it was little he could do, it gave him some semblance of just the tiniest relief. The tiniest shred of hope.

The kind of hope Astoria would have wanted him to have.

* * *

He had been in the library when Blaise came stumbling in, looking out of breath and as though he had just seen a ghost. Madame Pince hissed at the dark wizard irritably, but his friend paid the librarian no mind. Blaise came to a halt in front of the table Draco sat before.

"It's Astoria." Blaise announced breathlessly.

Draco bolted from his seat.

Astoria was finally awake.

In all his years, he had never run so fast with such deliberate, lightning speed. His feet carried him in quick strides towards the hospital wing, each step fueled with a purpose he had not possessed in a while until now.

When they finally arrived at the hospital wing, he saw Daphne and Luna crowding the side of Astoria's bed, blocking the patient's view. Between the two witches, he managed a glimpse of Astoria's familiar dark hair move.

His heart did tremendous summersaults.

"How long?" Draco asked his friend. His expression hardened.

"She'd been awake for hours. This morning, actually. I'm surprised you hadn't been there with her when she did." Blaise informed, crossing his arms on his chest, eyes drifting towards Daphne. "Her sister has been selfish with her since. No wonder people didn't know."

Luna moved aside in the slightest, and he finally managed a decent view of Astoria. She was still pale, but not as deathly so from when he last saw her. She was alive, breathing, moving; something that he had hoped she'd be for quite some time now. But there was something odd about her.

Her stance seemed as stiff as a board, as though she were trying to be alert for something. He caught her fidgeting with her fingers, an unusual habit she seemed to be developing as she spoke with the two witches. Though perhaps what threw him off the most was the look in her bright, green eyes. They still retained the luminous colors of fresh grass, but there was something particularly haunting in them. Her eyes were glassy, and she stared far off as Daphne spoke to her, as though distracted into her own thoughts.

His peculiar suspicions grew when he saw Astoria nearly jump off her bed when Luna tried to reach for the young Greengrass's hand. Luna and Daphne looked stricken, eyes wide with shock, but it showed little to no surprise. He saw Astoria's body shudder all of a sudden. And when she dropped her head in her hands and saw her back convulse, he had known something was wrong.

Daphne looked anxious, and when she turned to find Draco, he caught a look of both relief but a contradiction of despair as well. He saw the blonde witch say something to Astoria before she stood up to convene with him and Blaise.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his brows pinching with worry. "What happened to her?"

"I—" Daphne started before she closed her mouth. Her green eyes shifted downwards, towards the floor. After a heavy sigh, she went on. "It's not your fault, or mine, or Luna's, or anyone else's. But… she's not… she's not completely herself."

"What do you mean?" Blaise's voice choked.

Daphne looked up, and Draco was surprised to see fresh tears brim her eyes. "She's… she's been through a lot. I can't get to her. But maybe…"

The older Greengrass looked to Draco. "Maybe you will… but don't expect so much of her. I beg of you."

Draco was taken aback. Daphne rarely begged in such a vulnerable state. It made his stomach churn. Something was wrong. He knew Astoria needed time to clear her head, but what could possibly be so terrible that her own sister believed that she was not herself.

His eyes traveled back to Astoria, who was attempting to wipe the tears that stained her cheeks now with a handkerchief Luna offered. When Astoria's head turned to look at Luna, her gaze bled through her friend as she caught Draco's eyes. It felt like being hit by the Knight Bus, for some reason. There was a look of shock that crossed Astoria's features before they settled to something weary.

For many weeks, he had never been afraid to stay by Astoria's side. He would have slept beside her bed if it meant to keep her safe from the Carrows even past curfew. But now, it seemed as though his feet had been cast with some sort of permanent sticking charm as they stood stuck from where he stood. He was too afraid to come near her.

Astoria whispered something to Luna, causing the Ravenclaw to turn around and catch Draco's eye. Luna replied in the same tone before she stood up and left Astoria. When the blonde witch approached him, there was a haunting look in her eyes.

"She wants to talk to you," Luna said to Draco, pursing her lips afterwards before turning to the others. "Alone."

All three sets of eyes stared at him expectedly, which made the hair on his skin rise. Suddenly, he felt like he was back in Malfoy manor, being stared at the same way his mother and aunt did. The look of expectation, of how they just _knew_ he was going to be the answer to all of their problems. Back then, he had thought he'd be. But eventually, that idea came to pass. And seeing the same expectant look on their faces made him want to run the other way.

Still, he pulled himself together. Maybe he was a sort of last resort. He wasn't going to wait around to find out.

Draco's feet finally moved as they approached Astoria's bed. The covers of her divider were drawn open, but when he arrived beside her, he heard her mumble a request.

"Please close them." Astoria asked softly, eyes downcast.

He heard himself swallow, but he did as he was told; shoving the curtains of her divider shut before he took the seat Daphne occupied earlier, the one closest to Astoria.

Silence befell them as Draco waited. He didn't know what to say. All this time, he still felt the blame on him for not being there on time, for not having done anything to stop what the Carrows did to her. His blame had been bottled up so much; it was all he could do not to fall apart in front of her. It wasn't his time, after all. He had to put Astoria first.

But after a few more breaths of neither of them saying anything, Draco's tongue itched.

"How are you?" He asked gently, shifting in his seat to get a better look of her. Now that he did, he saw dark circles under her eyes, which gave him the presumption that she _had_ been awake long before today, but he said nothing of it.

Astoria finally raised her head to look at him. She was so eerily pale that it made his heart plummet. Was she not still well?

"I'm… recovering." Astoria said slowly, her hands fidgeting with themselves anxiously. Her brows drew together, as if considering something, before they creased back to normal. "It hasn't been easy. But Madame Pomfrey said I should be out of the hospital wing in a few days."

Draco nodded, unsure of what to say next. He ached to touch her terrified hands, but he saw the way she lashed away from Daphne's touch. His would be no different from her sister's.

"Astoria, when Madame Pomfrey was trying to heal your wrist's infection…" Draco started, his gaze shifting towards the wrist that had bled tremendously when he and Luna brought her to the hospital wing. Her wrist was covered in a white bandage cloth, blots of small blood dotting the surface still. "It nearly took weeks… I was told they hit a nerve, but… I'm not sure… Astoria…"

He felt his own voice croak. He could feel the tears come to him, but he squeezed his eyes shut, locking away the waterworks. But even as he did, he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

"I should have been there that day." Draco admitted, unable to meet Astoria's gaze. "Blaise… he and I were supposed to leave at the same time that morning. Him to breakfast, and I was supposed to be at that classroom. But I let him go first, and I waited in my dorm… doing… well, _nothing_. If I had been there on time…"

"Please don't," Astoria spoke so softly that it felt like a wind on his face. Draco opened his eyes, staring at Astoria's bright green ones, though hers were filled with tears. "It's not your fault. Don't _ever_ think it's your fault. It was out of your hands. I brought this on myself. I…"

Astoria's eyes drifted towards her bandaged wrist, and he heard her choke. Draco hand twitched in instinct, ready to take her hand in his, but he balled his hands into fists to resist himself.

"When I woke up, I panicked…" Astoria went on, sniffling. "I saw Madame Pomfrey that night. She tried to touch me, to dress my wounds but I…"

This time, Astoria looked far off, staring at the curtains of her divider. "I nearly lost myself. I was so scared of her. I thought I was still back in that classroom. I thought that if I woke up, I'd see their faces again. I know Madame Pomfrey meant well, but… I couldn't bear it."

Astoria shook her head as she wept. "I couldn't bear to be touched. Every time someone tries to, instinct just kicks in and… I feel as though I might get hurt again. Be tortured the way the Carrows did. You have no idea, the things they did to me."

Draco felt his heart constrict in the most painful way. He felt a surge of anger, of something so unadulterated, he would have considered murder. But his hurt overpowered his vexation as he watched Astoria helplessly.

"Draco, I'm so sorry," Astoria pleaded as she hugged herself. "You told me to be careful, to be keep quiet of the things I thought wrong… but I couldn't. Every time I look back, I wish I had. I wish I had never said anything, never defied them… yet I couldn't do what they wanted me to. They… they wanted me to hurt Luna. I couldn't hurt Luna!"

Her outburst shocked him as Astoria sobbed fretfully.

Draco's hand reached for hers, and regretted it immediately.

They both jumped in surprise, Astoria edging as far away from him on her bed as possible, and Draco sat frozen on his seat, unable to move an inch. He felt like a monster.

"Please, it's not you. Don't ever think it's you." Astoria begged as she tried to muffle her sobs with her hands. "I want you to hold me. I do."

He felt her desperation within him as much as she did. Draco would have given anything to hold her in his arms, to protect her and stand in the way of any harm that would try to get to Astoria. He wanted to soothe her dark locks back in comfort, the way his mother did after a nightmare. Merlin, he wanted her to cry in his chest, and take it all out on him. But even as those wants lingered, his regret surfaced even more.

It was his fault.

Draco tried to find his voice. "What do you want me to do, Astoria?"

He could think of many things she could ask for.

 _Protect me, Draco. Keep the Carrows away from me, Draco. Avenge me, Draco._

But he did not expect the next.

"Just… stay by my side?" Astoria asked carefully, as though the very idea was so foreign, and that she was afraid that if she asked, he'd reject her. "Talk to me… anything to keep my mind off of…"

But he didn't. He nodded as he swiped off the tear that fell from his cheek earlier. Astoria had always been so strong for him, so brave. It was about time he tried to be just that, despite knowing his efforts would fail him. Yet, it was better than nothing at all.

Astoria slowly eased back to the middle of her bed, and for a moment, he caught her hand twitch and reach out to him, but she pulled back as fast as it had happened.

"I won't let them hurt you again." Draco proclaimed strongly this time, even as his voice wavered. Though now, there was a fire in them he hadn't had earlier. "I promise."

In that space of time, he saw Astoria smile at him sadly. "I know you won't. Please don't let them hurt Luna too."

He hadn't thought much about Luna Lovegood. But if Astoria was insistent on him protecting Luna—even though he was not particularly the right man for the job, given the circumstances—he would give her that kindness. It was the least he could do after everything he's failed to do.

Draco has failed a million things, but he'll be damned if he failed Astoria again.

* * *

 **Late December 1997**

Malfoy manor felt as though it's become a prison far worse than Azkaban. During his time at Hogwarts, his own home had been converted into a sort of prison for some of the more personal victims of Voldemort. Some, like Luna Lovegood, were imprisoned in the manor's cellars where they usually kept their wines. The place had been transfigured to hold bars to keep the prisoners in. Often, they were given little food and proper shelter, which made Draco sick to his stomach.

He felt a sort of anguish after he found out that Luna had been taken by the Death Eaters for questioning. It was for how her father had been writing about the new order of the Ministry through that bloody Quibbler work of his. The Ravenclaw girl had been taken from the Hogwarts Express during their departure for the holidays, and it didn't make Draco feel any better.

The look of shock and disbelief in Astoria's face when she saw her friend get dragged away pierced his heart. Draco had been too late when the Death Eaters took Luna away. Luna had been long gone when he arrived, and the only semblance of her being taken away was the sight of Astoria sobbing into her sister's arms.

Daphne had looked at Draco apologetically, as if to tell her that there was nothing he could have done.

He _hated_ that idea—that there was nothing he could have done. There was nothing he could have done to save Dumbledore. Nothing he could have done to save Astoria from the Carrows. Nothing he could have done to save Luna. It was as though the world was forcing him to show his incapability of protecting the people he needed to. Every bit of the thought frustrated him.

His thoughts were jarred when he nearly stumbled down the steps leading to the cellar, the tray of food in his hands nearly fell to the ground had he not caught himself. Today, he would have the displeasure of bringing food to the prisoners. But it was an opportune time, he supposed, to speak to Luna.

After delivering plates of mercilessly cold meals towards the others, he found the cell where Luna, the Goblin and Ollivander were. Within the dim and damp place, he could see the Goblin sit at the edge of the cell, muttering to himself. Ollivander and Luna had been conversing, seated in the middle of the space. When she heard his footsteps, Luna looked up with bright blue eyes.

"Mr. Ollivander, Mr. Griphook, our food's here." Luna announced dreamily as she stood up to meet Draco.

Draco edged the plates of the cold meals through the small opening underneath the cell's bars. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he watched Luna hand out the meal to the frail wand maker and the reluctant Goblin, who refused the meal given to him. When Luna managed her own plate, she plopped before the bars to face Draco.

"Thank you kindly, Draco. It was hard to be deprived of a meal yesterday. I swear, the nargles had been whispering that my insides simply eat themselves." Luna told him nonchalantly as she scooped a generous amount of her meal into her mouth.

He stiffened for a moment, still not quite used to Luna's bluntness, but recovered himself as he sat across from her on the other side of the bars.

"Astoria wanted to know how you were." Draco began, looking quite feverish knowing how Luna truly was. She has been on the receiving end of some of the more prominent Death Eaters like his aunt's curses.

It's not to say he hadn't tried to do his best to lessen the blow on Luna's tortures. He negotiated much with his aunt Bellatrix, and to a terrifying fault, but there was no getting to her. Also, it would seem that she looked a bit crankier and more pressed than usual, but he supposed that was just her frustration of hardly getting any information out of the prisoners as to Potter's location.

"As well as I can be," Luna replied plainly, playing with her food now as her hands shook. "I suppose I can see how Astoria must feel. The nerve damage is very potent. I can't imagine what she must have been through."

Draco stiffened considerably, feeling guilty. "Merlin, I forgot. I could get you a potion for the nerves—"

"It's okay," She interrupted in a small voice, finally meeting Draco's gaze. "It's very dangerous enough that you're speaking to me right now."

It was dangerous for him to talk to her, but whenever some Death Eater or even his aunt caught him conversing with Luna, he reasoned that he was trying to coax information out of her on a daily basis. When his aunt thought it was strange he hadn't been using any torturing methods towards Luna, he presumed that perhaps she'll talk better if she was given a false sense of security.

Of course, it was all a lie—a perfect excuse to check on Luna, slip her and the others some potion for the possible for their trembling nerves from their days of being tortured. Also, it made it far easier to keep an eye on Luna. He's failed Astoria once in the train, he wasn't about to do it again.

He had been hesitant, at first, to speak to Luna; mostly because he felt the immense guilt of having to see her imprisoned in his own home. But when the Ravenclaw girl felt more open to speaking with him without any hint of anger against him, he felt he could relax in the slightest around her. Luna, apart from Astoria's sneaked in letters, was one of the very few things that was keeping him sane throughout the holiday.

"I appreciate your trying to help me, Draco." Luna told him solemnly. "I know Astoria's asked you to look after me."

He pursed his lips at this. "How did you know?"

"Astoria's a very caring friend. She wouldn't have taken what the Carrows did to her if she wasn't. Sometimes I wished she didn't have to. Given Astoria's condition and all…"

His ears perked up at the sound of Astoria's condition.

"What about it?" He asked disinterestedly, despite his obvious interest.

"Well, she gets very sickly you see. I don't know if you remember, but Astoria had gotten very sick during her first year. It was very concerning that when she came home for the summer, she spent most of her time in St. Mungo's." Luna said as she continued to shovel some food into her system. "It's curious, isn't it? There was no telling the cause of her sudden illness. It's as though it just… _happened."_

"That can't be possible." Draco shook his head in disbelief, hardly seeing the logic in all of it. "All illnesses have cause, whether it's through the weather or some allergy. It can't have just _appeared_ for no apparent reason."

Luna sighed as she put her cutlery down. "That's exactly the very thing I thought when I first heard of it. It has me thinking that perhaps it's something beyond the norm of a normal immune system problem. Something like, perhaps a curse."

Draco blinked at her twice before choking out, "A _curse_? Who on earth could possibly want to curse Astoria?"

"It's the most reasonable theory I could think of." Luna's shoulders sagged, her face etched in concentration. "Think about it. The Greengrasses have no history of any considerable illnesses whatsoever. But it's also concerning how not even St. Mungo's has a record of any former Greengrasses who have been confined in the hospital. It's like Astoria was the first of them. Not to mention their family tree chart had been burned down during the first war."

The ideas began to form inside Draco's head. There was some sort of foul play that seemed to have happened. "So you think it has something to do with her bloodline?"

"I can't say for sure, but what other possible reason could there be? Her mother's bloodline, the Shafiqs are clean of any illnesses. And if there was any curse in that bloodline, it was merely the curse of producing only female heirs." Luna stated curiously. "Astoria only knew so little of her relatives beyond her father's parents. It's as though the Greengrasses beyond Cepheus Greengrass were simply wiped off the face of the earth when half their manor burned down in the first war."

Draco knew little of the Greengrasses during the first war. He knew that Atlas Greengrass, Astoria's uncle, had failed a mission that Voldemort had entrusted upon him. In return, he had tried to destroy the manor. Had it not been fortified with the most powerful enchantments, it would have burned down the entire place. But as such, he only damaged a part of the manor. It almost felt too coincidental, but his mind could be playing tricks with him.

His thoughts were interrupted when Luna went on.

"But you needn't worry about it for now. I assume Astoria wouldn't want you to be so occupied by the thought of it." She insisted before finishing the last of her meal. It surprised Draco how quickly the lithe girl had eaten it. "I'm glad she has you."

Draco's head snapped up to meet Luna's gaze. "What do you mean?"

Luna shifted where she sat. "I'm just glad she has someone looking out for her. Not that Daphne hasn't been, and the Carrow twins, and Blaise, and me. But… just someone who never seems to give up on her. I saw that much when you helped me get her to the hospital wing."

This time, Draco couldn't help but scoff at the Ravenclaw. Sometimes, it was unbelievable how naïve Luna was as Astoria was sometimes. They were absolutely clueless. "I'm not a good man. Not for her, anyway."

"You're a good man to her, Draco," Luna said with a soft smile. "It only takes one person to believe that so for it to be real. And I think her believing in you is more than enough."

A part of him wished that Luna was right, that he deserved to be seen in a way no other had ever seen him. But as the days grew on, and the severity of life in the manor became darker than anything he's ever had the displeasure of going through throughout the year, he started to wonder if he will ever be deserving of it after all of it ends. No matter which side wins, it won't matter what Astoria thought of him to be good.

He will always be Draco Malfoy. He will always be suspected. And there was no escaping the choices he made to get him to where he was now.

* * *

 **Fanfiction Writing Month:** 5,854 words

 **AN:** And here is the 25th chapter! I did say it might take awhile to get the new chapter out, and I might be able to say the same for the next one. I'm terribly sorry for such infrequent updates, but I will always try my best to give you guys content at least twice or thrice every month.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! What did you think of Astoria's reaction to not being touched? Does it feel like a natural reaction after a traumatic experience? I wanted it to be as realistic as possible, even using Mary Stuart's reactions post-attack from Reign as a way to write out Astoria's stance.

Overall, I hope you enjoyed reading! Please don't forget to follow/favorite or simply post a review for more updates!

See you all on the other side,  
 _ **EMPG22HoPe**_


	26. Chapter 26: Astoria

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Astoria**

* * *

 **January 1998**

Astoria felt like a ghost walking in the shell of the person she used to be. The temporary nerve damage in her body, while not as dreadful as most Cruciatus curse cases, became something of a hindrance to her daily activities. She couldn't go down a flight of stairs without support from the railings or holding onto someone. Every time she needed a cup of tea, her hands shook, causing her tea to rattle under the shakiness in her body. Moving was all the more painful without potions to ease the pain temporarily. She didn't know if she'll ever get back to the way she was.

Madame Pomfrey had said she was lucky to be alive. Astoria wondered if she even deserved to be.

Ever since she woke up in the hospital wing, she had been scared of physical touch from just about anyone. The fact that she couldn't bear to be touched made it painful for her to see the people in her life recoil from her, as though she were a ticking bomb and at the slightest touch, she would explode. She wished she didn't have to be that way, but anyone attempting to touch her just brings back the horrid memories of her torture.

After she had woken up from her being bedridden for a month, she went home for the holidays. The moment her parents saw her in such a state, they felt all the regrets of sending their daughters to Hogwarts, but what choice did they have? Her parents had even considered that Astoria drop the second semester and stay home to recuperate, but she was immediate in her response.

"I know I need time to recover…" Astoria had said as she fidgeted with her hands, a habit she began to develop in the hopes of getting rid of her nerves. "But I can't just stay here while my friends are in trouble. I want to help. I _need_ to help."

"You'll do no such thing! I am owling the school this instant!" Cassandra had exploded in a fit of rage. It was bad enough that her parents hadn't been allowed to visit Astoria during her month-long injury, it was mere torture then to hear their daughter want to come back. "The repulsiveness of it all! I always knew those Carrows were trouble. I always _hated_ the lot of them back when I was in Hogwarts! I swear, if I get my hands on them—"

"Mum, you could go to the Ministry of Magic for all You-Know-Who cares," Daphne had intercepted then. "The Headmaster finds it grounds that her recuperating needn't extra care at home. She has potions to help her get to classes, and if it's not as contagious as that Weasley boy's spattergoit, she still has to go back."

Cassandra Greengrass still sent an owl the Headmaster to petition against his wishes anyway.

The holidays were a pleasant break from the horrors of Hogwarts. While at home, Astoria had managed to reconnect with Daphne, who had been cried every time they spoke, and had been keen on apologizing aimlessly for being selfish when Astoria needed her the most. Despite how much it had pained Astoria to have known her sister had not been much of a sister since the start of the school year, she truly couldn't stand to hate her. She was her sister, after all. And she cared more about rebuilding their relationship than letting past mistakes get in the way of things.

Since they came home, Daphne had been Astoria's matron. She checked Astoria's vitals, fed her whenever she couldn't make it down the flight of stairs to the dining room, helped her into her clothes—she was fine with the slightest brush of Daphne's skin against hers while doing this— and even fussing around at the merest grunt of pain. It was almost impossible to have some alone time, but Astoria appreciated her sister's concern nonetheless.

Perhaps what troubled her other than her shaking form was the fact that Luna had been abducted by Death Eaters from the Hogwarts Express. She had tried to duel the Death Eaters who tried to take her friend despite the circumstance she just went through defying the Carrows, but her body was still too frail to move, and it had been too late to do anything by the time she got to Luna's compartment.

These days, she's heard rumors about where the Death Eaters keep their captives prisoner. Often, she ignored such rumors, until the person involved to where the prisoners are kept confirmed it for her. She had been sporting painful contractions in her legs when she received the owl from Draco. Luna was at Malfoy manor, and they weren't the least bit pleasant with her.

Astoria felt as though she was asking too much of Draco for him to risk his life trying to protect Luna, and had not said anything about doing just that. But Draco had been voluntarily sending her owls to let her know how Luna was doing, which gives her some relief to know that she was still alive… at least, for now. She shook her head angrily at the thought. No, she _will_ be alive. She has to be. Astoria would never forgive herself if anything worse than a Cruciatus curse ever happened to her friend.

She was startled from her thoughts when Hestia Carrow tugged at her robes. They were in their dormitory, getting ready for their first class of the second semester. Astoria had a tendency to space out with her thoughts these days, often finding herself in places she didn't remember getting to. It was always better form that she had somebody beside her at all times.

"Astoria, Professor Snape wants to see you," Hestia said as she pressed her books to her chest. "Something about you needing to skip the first class?"

"Am I in trouble?" Astoria asked before realizing how ridiculous it must have sounded. She's _already_ been in trouble before the holidays, being used as a plaything by the Carrows and all. But she couldn't imagine what she must have done that she was being forced to skip first period.

"I don't think it's much trouble, and more about concerns on what happened to you." Flora said guiltily, avoiding Astoria's gaze as she shouldered her knapsack.

Lately, the Carrow twins had not been very vocal with Astoria. Though mostly it was because they felt guilty for what their aunt and uncle did, even more when they didn't do anything about it. Astoria had tried to affirm with them that there was nothing they could have done—but the twins have been distant ever since. It hurt Astoria for them to treat her that way.

The twins disappeared out the door before Astoria could say anything else. With a tired sigh, she moved her aching limbs towards the door, glad to find that Daphne was already there, waiting for her.

"What's this thing about you meeting Professor Snape during your first class?" Daphne asked as Astoria held onto her sister's arm. Lately, being able to touch Daphne wasn't much triggering as it had been the first time around. She had grown to crave her sister's gentle touch these days due to how much she had gotten used to her help over the holidays.

"I'm not really sure, but I'm worried." Astoria expressed worriedly. "Am I going to be expelled?"

Daphne frowned at her before they descended the stairs to the common room. "I'd like to see him try. You've been through a worst ordeal. It would be stupid for him to expel you. No, it's probably to talk to you about mum's letters. I've never seen her so worked up until now. Who could blame her? I damn well nearly hexed Draco after he and Luna brought you to the hospital wing."

Astoria felt a chill run down her spine. Draco. She hardly saw him in the train, and he made no effort to see her in her compartment. Was he avoiding her too like her roommates?

After breakfast, her sister helped her up the steps towards the Headmaster's office. At the professor's command for her to come in, Daphne wished her luck and made her way down the stairs. Shakily, she opened the door to the office.

The last time she came in here, she had spoken to Dumbledore and viewed a memory in his pensieve. It seemed like ages ago, and it felt so different seeing Professor Snape standing where Dumbledore had stood. Everyone knew it was Snape who killed the former Headmaster, causing Astoria to fear the worst as she entered the space.

The professor was clad in his usual black robes, piercing black eyes staring at her expectedly as she shut the door gently behind her.

"You wanted to see me, professor?" Astoria asked meekly as she carefully threaded her way into the office.

"Take a seat, Miss Greengrass." Professor Snape said as he motioned towards the seats available before the headmaster's desk. Astoria's feet moved automatically, soon taking an empty seat. "I am aware of your situation with the Carrows."

Astoria froze. She didn't expect things to start so bluntly.

"Professor, I—"

"Apologize?" Snape asked with a raise of his thick brow. She bit her bottom lip nervously to stop herself from talking. "It's unnecessary. Frankly, as much as my deputy headmasters claim their actions to be justifiable, I cannot say the same on their behalf. What they did is beyond school rules. The best I can do at this point is to have Madame Pomfrey check on your vitals considering your… _condition_."

Astoria blinked up at the professor. Another thing she didn't expect was to receive Snape's sympathy. But then again, she was her former head of house, and perhaps he must really care for his students still, despite everything that's been happening.

"My condition…" Astoria trailed off, screwing her face up in disappointment.

"I have heard of your tendencies to have a less than normal way of healing from one or two sources. Your weak immune system, for that matter." The professor drawled out lazily while he took out a vial from a small, intricately designed box. Her eyes widened in surprise. It looked like… "Ah, so you're familiar with this vial, Miss Greengrass?"

Astoria bobbed her head in agreement. "Sir, that's the vial I wasn't able to see in Professor Dumbledore's pensieve. I collapsed after the first memory before I could see it, and never got the chance to again after."

She could still remember the memory as clear as day. Even more reason for her hands to shake furtively as she stared at the second vial she's failed to view. All her nerves dreaded to see what was in there, but her mind was persistent in getting answers. It wasn't exactly the right time, given everything that was happening. But she wasn't about to sit around and wait.

"When Dumbeldore passed, he has left me a behest to allow you to see this memory in his pensieve," Snape went on then offered the vial to her. The glowing strings of her aunt Cress's memories danced dangerously inside. "Only if you wish to."

Astoria let out a breath before giving the professor a determined nod.

The last time she viewed her aunt's memory, she had collapsed and been sent to the hospital wing for a few weeks. She wasn't sure what to expect after doing so again, but she could only hope it won't be as definitively haunting as the first one. Though with the way her aunt's string of memories kept glowing angrily up at her, she had a feeling it might be worst.

But she screwed her courage to the sticking place and stood up once the professor took out the pensieve. It loomed in the middle of the office, bobbing gently as it lit up in swirling silvers. Astoria faced the floating basin, looking down on it nervously.

"Dumbledore has told me that the last time you saw a memory from your aunt, he had been with you. And with good reason, it appears." Snape started as he nodded at the pensieve. "He was able to pull you out as you seemed to have collapsed _within_ the memory. But I am leaving the decision up to you, Miss Greengrass. Should you need my assistance…"

Astoria gaped at him. Of course. She would have been lost—stuck forever, perhaps, in that memory had Dumbledore not pulled her out just when she had collapsed. Her gaze shifted towards the professor's dark eyes.

"I don't particularly trust myself not to be at sorts when I'm in the memory." Astoria said honestly. "Your help would truly be appreciated, professor."

Snape nodded, looking placid. "Very well. Let's get on with it, then."

A nervous breath escaped her lips before she popped the cork of the vial open. She then tipped the swirling contents of her aunt's memory into the basin. With shaking hands, she pushed her face into the basin then. Suddenly, she felt a tug on the nape of her neck. Her entire form was transported into a scene one too familiar she's seen in Greengrass Manor.

She and Professor Snape stood in the drawing room of her home. It seemed to be daytime, and where the house seemed to be full with life than it wasn't these days. They faced the arguing figures of Cassandra Greengrass and Cressida Shafiq. In the memory, they looked younger, only ever touching into the start of their thirties. Her stomach churned as she caught the recognition of their altercation.

This was her aunt and mother's fight that had caused Cassandra Greengrass to kick Cressida out of her and her daughters' lives.

"—another one of your vile tricks to steal Cepheus away from me, no doubt!" Cassandra screeched mid-argument at her older sister. "Why can't you simply leave me and my family be?"

"Stop being delusional, you daft little girl!" Cressida exclaimed desperately, shaking a very old-looking vial in her hand. It seemed to date many years ago, decades or more, even. Astoria had to hold back a gasp. It was the same vial her grandparents had given her aunt in the first memory. "Astoria is sick! She must know the truth! If she can't, then at the very least her Healers must know—"

" _ **NO!**_ " Cassandra howled as she took her sister's wrist angrily, trying to shake off the vial in her hand. "I will not let the world know about whatever repulsive thing that's inside that memory! For all we know, it's a fake! And if it isn't, I would rather _die_ than let you ruin the Greengrass name!"

"Forget your selfish pride and _listen to me_!" Cressida snatched her hand away from the younger Shafiq. "She must know the truth. I don't know what's inside this, but Cepheus's parents have given it to me to give to Astoria when the time comes. This _vial_ may well have the answer to why she nearly caught her death! Has it ever occurred to you how _healthy_ Astoria has been until she reached Hogwarts?"

This silenced Astoria's mother for the briefest moment. Cassandra's face screwed up in anger and concentration, and she wasn't sure which emotion was winning over the other. In the end, anger surfaced the better.

Her mother was practically breathing fire as she spoke. "It's _nothing_ , I tell you! _Nothing_! I want you **out** , Cress—out of my life, out of my family's, out of my daughter's life!"

Cassandra shoved her sister, causing Cressida to stumble backwards, looking appalled as she stared at her sister. Cressida sported a look of pain, all her anger from earlier dissolving into something akin to regret.

"Cassie, you don't mean that," Cressida implored, choking on her words. "I'm your sister."

"You are _no_ sister of mine." Cassandra said defiantly as she stood proud and rigid, though Astoria was certain she caught her mother's eyes twitch—likely stopping herself from drawing tears. "Get out, and don't _ever_ come back. If I see you try to talk to my daughters again, it will be the last time you'll ever have to. Now _leave_."

Cressida looked horrifyingly stricken. She clutched the vial against her chest protectively before she stood upright, mimicking the same rigid posture her sister ensued. "You will rue this day, Cassandra. The day you've damned your own daughter. Remember that when she dies. Remember it to be on _your_ hands."

Cassandra looked like she had been bashed with the whole Knight Bus, though before she could say her piece, Cressida had already gone in the shapeless form of apparition.

Suddenly, the memory began to shift, as though playing forwards. A myriad of memories surrounded them on all sides, swirling like mists. Then, as if whatever force had taken them there had made up its mind, they were transported into a random memory. The scenery changed.

They were now inside a small apartment. It was nightfall, and a ruckus ensued when they landed on the floor. The whole apartment looked as though someone threw a hex of sorts and missed its target by a number of times. All the furniture was upturned, and Astoria saw why.

Her aunt, Cressida, seems to be chasing, or rather, sending curses and hexes towards a small figure that ran around the perimeter of the apartment. The figure, she realized, was a creature; and not just any creature, but a _house elf_. Its large ears flapped as it hopped from one upturned furniture onto another, avoiding her aunt's hexes. Its tiny hands, she saw, held the same ancient vial she saw her aunt carrying in the first memory.

"Come back here, please!" Cressida cried helplessly, but not without the flame of her vexation. "You fiend! My niece, she _needs_ it!"

"I is sorry, miss! I cannot fail my master!" The house elf squeaked terribly as it avoided a spell that missed him by a hair. Somehow, that spell seemed to have broken whatever barrier her aunt put up to trap the house elf in her home. Because the moment there came a loud explosion, the house elf had disapparated.

Cressida wailed in despair before Astoria felt herself being pulled back again into the sea of memories. They stayed there a moment longer than the last before they were finally pulled into another memory.

This time, they were transported into a spaciously large library. The smell of old books and pine wafted in the air. They were shrouded in the dark, but the light of the moon emanating from the windows gave her the sight of bookshelves of old lined up in perfect symmetry. She heard a voice talking to herself, and saw Professor Snape take out his wand attentively.

But when they found the source of the voice, the professor slipped his wand back in, but he did little to pull his hand back out. Astoria stepped further into the library's space. Then, she found her aunt Cressida, clad in silver gown, searching furtively through the titles on the shelves. When she pulled out a large title, Cressida looked like she wanted to scream in delight, but pinched her lips together as she opened the text.

In the middle of the book, pages were carved out into a small box like a hidden compartment. And within that compartment was the vial she had been seeing in all the memories so far. Her aunt took out the vial and fished it delicately into her bosom. When she seemed to think the vial safe, she started to sift through the pages of the book.

Astoria, in her greatest curiosity, stood behind her aunt and looked over the woman's shoulder to see what she was looking at. It was like being hit with the shockwave of an immensely powerful spell. Written on the page was not just text, but a family tree. And not just any family tree…

 _Greengrass Family_

 _ **Dione Greengrass** \+ Reginald Lestrange  
Aether Greengrass_

 _Aether Greengrass + Tatiana Longbottom  
_ _ **Persephone Greengrass**_ & _Achilles Greengrass_

…

But before she could read much more, her aunt had shut the book close. There was a look of shock etched on her face, and Astoria would be lying if she said she didn't look the same as her aunt. The Greengrass family tree had been known to have burned in the fire of the east wing of the manor. How on earth was this library in possession of her family tree? The same question seemed to appear on the look of her aunt's face.

Astoria could feel her heart race angrily and painfully against her chest. Whoever had this book must have either stolen it from the manor or had fabricated a plan of something else entirely. Whatever the case, she felt her anger surge.

All this time she could have known about the Greengrass bloodline… and yet, why didn't her aunt tell her in her letters? At the very least told her _everything_ when they came face to face? A pensieve memory in place of an actual conversation felt like her aunt was trying to escape from the mistakes she has made. It completely shattered the very fabric of respect she had for her aunt.

"How could you?" Astoria asked in a small, pained voice, even though she knew the woman wouldn't hear her. "Why didn't you—"

But just before she could go on, she saw Cressida take out her wand. She pointed its tip towards the book and said, " _Geminio_."

In a flash, an exact replica of the whole book appeared before them out of thin air. It landed with a loud _thud_ against the library's wooden floors. This must have been such a noise, because the moment the sound reverberated throughout the room, Cressida made quick haste to shove the original book back in its place in the shelves. She bent to snatch the replica just as the library doors flew open.

Her aunt disapparated long before whoever had came in reached her. Astoria wished she knew who had come to see her aunt—it would have given her a clue as to who that library belonged to, but as Cressida disappeared, so did the memory. She felt a pull on her neck before her whole body was thrown backwards.

The memory faded, and then she was blinking through the bright lights of the Headmaster's office. Astoria was heaving great breaths, still trying to pull her thoughts together as Professor Snape helped her up. Her legs wobbled piercingly, likely due to all the movement she experienced in the pensieve memory. When the professor sat her down, she looked down at her hands angrily, feeling exasperated and confused all at once.

The pair was silent as the headmaster concocted a potion to the side. When he was through, he offered a goblet full of it to Astoria. She didn't even need to ask what it was as she hungrily drank the liquid. It tasted rancid, but she shoved the contents down anyway, even more when she felt the pain in her legs subside.

Once she was through with the potion, she placed the goblet down on the headmaster's desk.

"Professor…" Astoria trailed off to dispel the silence between them. Her green eyes shifted upwards to meet the professor's gaze. "That family tree… it can't be… it was burned down in the manor. I just… I just _know_ it."

"Apparently, your aunt believes otherwise, having found a copy of it," Snape said as he took the seat of the headmaster's.

"How is it even possible?" Astoria let out a breath as she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Whose _library_ did she find it in? More importantly, why didn't she come to us when she had a replica of it this whole time? Granted, the replica would have faded by then, but I assumed she had copied down the family tree for herself and gave it to me, or at the very least to my parents. I don't understand…"

"Perhaps you _should_ be concerning first as to whose library that was." Snape replied inquisitively, staring down at her. "As far as history goes, the eldest Greengrass in existence was Hyperion and Cassiopeia Greengrass, your father's parents. There is a record of your family name in the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but it's as though your entire bloodline was wiped out when given the opportunity to see any ancestors."

She felt a great need to hit her head with a broomstick. Why had she never asked to look into the Sacred Twenty-Eight records? Surely, an entire bloodline could be seen there. But even when she conversed back then with Dumbledore, even _he_ didn't see a family tree from the records. It was all so confusing that it made her head spin.

Astoria blinked up at the professor, face pinched in concentration. "It seems strange, almost _impossible_. Who could ever do that? Pull up something so convoluted, and yet so cleverly placed, that it removed the history of the Greengrasses from any record at all? And having the only copy in existence in their library, hidden away so no one could see it? It's as though someone doesn't want to know about us, our history… I feel as though I don't even know who I am anymore."

Snape looked at Astoria expectantly, looking as though he wanted to say something more, but decided against it. She had a feeling Snape knew _something_ , though she was wise enough not to press the professor on it. After a beat, she saw him open a compartment on his desk to take something out.

She nearly fell off her seat trying to get up when she saw the professor produce the _very same_ ancient-looking vial she had been seeing in all of her aunt's memories, right from the very first. The bottle seemed to be stained with brown blotches, but she could see the silvery threads of a memory dance between the dirt.

"How—" Astoria started. Her aunt had bequeathed her that vial in her vault, but she couldn't claim it yet on the Gringotts rule that she was underaged to take the item from Cressida's vault.

"Professor Dumbledore has taken the liberty of releasing this vial from your aunt's vault and has bequeathed it to you should you ever need it." Snape explained before he held out the vial to her. "Your aunt has been informed of this, of course. It seems that when you're Dumbledore, anything is possible."

Astoria's chest tightened. She missed Dumbledore. And she couldn't very well blame Snape for killing the Headmaster. It was either Draco's soul be torn apart by murdering someone, or Snape. Suddenly, she felt a great admiration for the professor. In many ways than one, he had saved Draco from completely losing himself, and she felt grateful for it.

Her thoughts fluttered back towards the vial that still lay precious in the professor's hands. Her fingers itched and stretched themselves. Should she do it now? Finally see the vial everyone has been arguing and fussing about? Would she be the first Greengrass to ever view that ancient memory?

Suddenly, she didn't feel so good. She felt queasy and just about ready to vomit sick all over the headmaster's floor. But she swallowed down her uneasiness before she carefully procured the vial in her hand. She expected it to feel heavy, weigh many years of being unopened, but it felt like any other ordinary vial. Only this one displayed a sort of danger and urgency she's never seen in any silvery memory.

"I don't think I'm ready…" Astoria whispered to the vial, silently hoping it would answer back. But it merely lay in her hand, still looking very ancient. She whipped her head up to stare at the Professor. "I'm not sure if I'll _ever_ be ready."

This was her chance to finally see the cause of her unknown illness, see the reason why she had such a delicate immune system unseen by any Healer existent, reveal half the person she was. But every time she felt a spark of determination, it was doused by doubt and fear. She simply felt it wasn't the right time yet. Her heart simply couldn't bear adding more dark into an already unpleasant world.

With finality, her fingers closed around the vial. "Not today, anyway."

The professor scrutinized her for the briefest moment before he nodded. "Very well. Should you wish to see it at a time; you can simply come here to see it for yourself."

"Thank you, professor." Astoria said gratefully as she stood up. Her head felt a heavy rush, likely a side effect of the potion she had taken, but her feet attempted a firm grip on the floor. The moment she turned away from the professor, she immediately looked back to face him. "Professor?"

Snape looked at her expectantly.

"What you did for Draco…" She trailed off, feeling the heat rise on her cheeks. A part of her wasn't sure it would be appropriate. The very thought of her feeling gratitude towards Snape felt misplaced, considering how he killed Dumbledore. But she couldn't help herself. "It was brave of you. If you hadn't… well, Draco, he'd be… he'd have lost his soul. You saved from that. I…"

"Say no more, Miss Greengrass," Snape said with a slight edge to his voice, but his eyes produced a different emotion she couldn't quite place. "It was either the boy's soul or mine, and contrary to popular belief, I don't particularly enjoy seeing a student of mine be placed under the circumstance he's been in."

Astoria bit her bottom lip nervously, and released it when she didn't receive the onslaught of anger she had expected from him. She gave him a placid smile, thanked him again, before she made haste to leave the office. As she travelled back down the swirling stairs, she opened her palm to reveal the vial once more.

It seemed to glare at her now, as though angry at her for not seeing the memory when she had the chance. But she held her ground. The days were far too dangerous to put herself first. Luna was still in danger. Hogwarts was still in peril. Her blasted immune system can wait a few more months… years, perhaps.

But there was a new determination to her step as she left the winding stairs. She needed to speak with her aunt immediately. But more importantly, to ask why in the name of Merlin was Persephone Greengrass and Dione Greengrass's names were bolded in harsh letters in comparison to the names of her other ancestors.

* * *

 **Fanfiction Writing Month:** 5,112 words  
 **Dragon-Breeding Club:** Swedish Short-Snout - Evie

 **AN:** If you don't remember about the first memory, you can head back to Chapter 15 to read it! But a quick recap is that the first memory showed Hyperion and Cassiopeia Greengrass, Cepheus Greengrass's parents, giving that old vial to Cressida Shafiq, Astoria's aunt. They had asked her to give it to Astoria should she start showing effects of a great illness. From the first memory here, we can see Cressida trying to give that vial to Astoria, which is nod to the first time Astoria had her illness in her first year at Hogwarts. That vial has been passed down through generations, but has never been opened (or so they think it hasn't been) because only the Greengrass who had the misfortune of a great illness can see it.

Anywho, I would love to hear your thoughts on today's chapter! We're _slowly_ worming into the history of Astoria's strange illness, and I'd love to know any theories you all might have. Whose library do you think that is? Why do you think Cressida never gave that family tree to Astoria, or at least to her parents? Sound off in the reviews section below!

As always, thank you so much for reading, and for being patient. I have been reading your reviews and they give me so much motivation to keep writing. You're all the best readers in the world. I cannot be more grateful for your support. Thanks again for reading! Till' the next chapter!

See you all on the other side,  
 _EMPG22HoPe_


	27. Chapter 27: Draco

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:  
Draco**

* * *

 **February 1998**

Draco felt as though there was some sort of gaping hole within him. It was uncharacteristic, considering how he had always felt himself whole for the person he, well, _was_. The person he is _now_ is a completely different matter.

There was some kind of empty space within him that he couldn't quite fill. Back then, it was easy to make himself feel better. He'd simply find the slightest joy in bullying some innocent first year, or making snide remarks towards Weasley and whatever stupidity Potter and his gang were up to. He was filled to the brim doing that, and it made him whole. But now that he had experienced—and is still experiencing it—the very same thing that he had been doing to other people in the past, he was beginning to question whether or not anything that he's ever done before is justifiable now.

Today, he was regretting those very childish decisions now that he was in their shoes—except ten times worst.

The months dragged on at Hogwarts, making the castle a desolate home to bouts of torture and excruciating pain. He did not revel in the torturing the way the Carrows or his friends, Crabbe and Goyle, do. Not when he himself had witnessed it unforgivably done to his father, not when he'd dream of it happening to himself, not when he watched the aftermath of such happen to Astoria. He left the "fun part" to his friends, and though it was against everything he had to publicly hold, he would find himself making Prefect rounds just to keep innocent students off the hallways lest the Carrows get to them too.

It was short of bravery, but it was the least he could do. Hogwarts was no longer a home to them. The place had turned into a living nightmare.

Draco inhaled the cold, winter air of February as he stood before the railings of the Astronomy tower. A part of him was certain he never wanted to come back up here, considering what had happened in this very tower. But it was the only place farthest from the tortures, farthest from the Carrows, and perhaps, even farthest from reality.

He had taken to coming up to the tower very recently for it had given him some temporary relief from everything that's been going on.

"Come up here to be broody again?" Someone asked with humor in their voice.

Draco turned to see Astoria glide towards him, clad in her uniform and a green jumper, her hands behind her back.

It's been two months since Astoria's dreadful fate with the Carrows. But time was everyone's enemy, it seems, for he knew that Astoria hasn't exactly _fully_ recovered from her injuries. She was still pale at times and constantly needed blood-replenishing potions, and would often require bed rest more than what was normally necessary. She was also still quite frightened to be touched except by her sister, Daphne. Some part of his resolved seemed to shatter at that thought, for he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and protect her from the cruelty of the world.

And yet, wasn't _he_ part of that cruelty? Would allowing himself that privilege simply be another way to hurt Astoria?

He shook the thoughts away as he watched Astoria take the place beside him on the railing, her green eyes sweeping the fields of Hogwarts before them. While he found her paleness normal these days, something in her seemed to have changed, and he was almost certain it's not just because of the Carrows now. He found that she would often fold in on herself, keeping Draco from knowing more; which was odd. She had always been so open about her emotions. But this time, meddled with what happened with the Carrows and what other thing that seems to be bothering her, he was starting to lose sight of the Astoria she was.

"I don't brood," Draco mumbled lowly, hugging his winter coat closer to him as his eyes shifted towards the fields covered in snow. Everything looked dreadful from up here. There were hardly any stars in the sky. If there were, it was being covered by some gloomy fog Merlin knows where it was coming from. "I just like to listen to the quiet."

He heard a slight snort come from Astoria, causing Draco's lips to curl just slightly.

"Listening to the quiet is not what concerns me," Astoria said. "The fact that you revel in the quiet now is what does."

"There's the Astoria I know and love," Draco replied playfully then turned to look at her. "Where _has_ she been?"

Astoria seemed to stiffen at his question, and he regretted it immediately. He didn't mean to trigger some part of her torture from the Carrows, only to question the other part that seems to be bothering her. He wanted to jump off the astronomy tower now for being so insensitive, but when he saw Astoria release a breath, he held his ground.

"Draco, you need to stop walking on eggshells around me," Astoria declared before looking up to meet Draco's gaze, looking determined. "I'm not some delicate flower you need to worry about."

Draco steeled himself. "I know that. I just didn't… I'm just afraid I might say something that would bring you back. Like what I said earlier."

Astoria shook her head. "I appreciate it, truly. But I've already got a sister who keeps fussing over even the slightest cold around me. I was hoping I'd have some release from that with you. You were never afraid to be bold around me."

"Things change, I suppose…" Draco trailed off. He pursed his lips to keep himself from blurting out the questions he's been asking himself for nearly a month now. But he supposed he needed a sticking charm to do that, because he _did_ blurt out his curiosities. "Is there something that's been bothering you lately? Other than, you know… the Carrows and everything else?"

At his query, Astoria blinked at him owlishly. Perhaps she hadn't been expecting him to ask. But she did say that he shouldn't walk on eggshells around her. He was simply doing what she asked.

After recovering from his question, Astoria seemed to come to terms with herself, but he could see her hands tremble as they held onto the tower's railing. He pinched his brows together in worry, though before he could say his apologies, she spoke.

"I just learned something very recently…" Astoria started before she bowed her head, her hands coming together at her front to fidget with her sweater. "And I'm not quite sure how to come to terms with it."

Draco hummed in understanding. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Astoria raised her head now, looking quite surprised but recovered fast when she nodded slowly.

And so Draco listened.

She told him about pensieve memories she's seen in the Headmaster's office, its connections to her weak immune system and the Greengrass family tree. It was a lot to process, but he managed to get the gist of everything to it. And when Astoria showed him the last vial, he couldn't help but stare at it eagerly. It looked very old compared to the vials most witches and wizards possess these days. And though the silver memory within looked pale, it danced rather dangerously.

"Why haven't you tried to look at it?" Draco asked, his gaze shifting between Astoria and the vial. "You have all the answers in that single vial. Don't you want to know?"

"I do." Astoria insisted before sighing. "But I'm not sure if I'm quite ready to do so just yet. I mean… this vial could very well hold the reason why I'm so sickly. Luna and I… we've talked about theories before, ones beyond the norm even of muggle theories. I'm just hoping it's none of them, considering how all those theories just sound, well, dreadful."

Draco remembered the last time he spoke to Luna Lovegood. The Ravenclaw had voiced the theory that Astoria may have been cursed in some way. But he would rather not say that out loud. Astoria asked him not to walk on eggshells around her, not blatantly drive her away from him.

Perhaps he should look into more dark curses if that was the case. It wouldn't be the first time he's had a fascination for the dark arts. At the very least this time, it won't be for selfish reasons.

"And with everything that's been happening lately…" Astoria seemed to go on, causing Draco to snap out of his reverie. "It's too selfish to do it. There are more important things."

Draco opened his mouth before he snapped it shut abruptly. He wanted to ask her what could be more important than her own health, but then he remembered that he was talking to Astoria. She had always been so selfless, putting other people's needs above her own. It wouldn't hurt to be a bit selfish, he supposed he should probably say, but went against it.

"Then when do you plan on seeing it?" Draco asked carefully. If it had been him, he'd have marched up to Snape's office to view that blasted memory, everything else be damned.

"I suppose after all of this is over." Astoria waved a hand in a semi-circle before frowning. "Or however way it ends."

He felt his body tense up at that thought. If he was being frank, he didn't know _how_ it was all going to end. And though he would _never_ say it out loud, he wanted it to end with Voldemort being taken away from this world forever. There were lines he certainly did not want to cross when it came to his morality. This was one of them.

Draco could only nod in response now. He then faced the field before them, hugging his coat even closer when a breeze blew harshly toward them.

"Draco…"

He hummed absent-mindedly, eyes still set blankly on the horizon.

"How are you?"

This made Draco turn his head towards her. "What do you mean?"

Astoria met his gaze. "I mean _how are you_? How's… how's your family?"

It felt like the world was caving in on him, but he swallowed his nervousness. This was just Astoria, after all. He can trust her with his very life. But there was some resistance to his need to tell her. A part of him feels as though he was unfair to her. She could sit there and pour her heart out, but he didn't feel like having that particular privilege. He didn't like the thought of talking to just about anyone about what's been happening in Malfoy Manor.

"You wouldn't want to know." Draco offered with a shake of his head. "It's a dreadful conversation topic."

Astoria's lips lifted into a brilliant smile. He was taken aback by it. He still needed to get used to her ability to shift from one emotion to another.

"Try me." Astoria offered, determination set in her eyes.

And he did.

* * *

 **March 1998**

The gaping hole within him seemed to have surpassed beyond what was first simply a large hole. That hole grew and grew until it consumed his entire being. It's what Draco felt as the Dark Lord made him watch the murders of witches, wizards and goblins alike from Gringotts.

What was one the shiny, polished home of Malfoy Manor became a den for repulsive Death Eaters and home to the murders of more witches and wizards than he could count with his fingers and toes. The marble floors of the drawing room were drenched with blood, and he could not discern whether it was from the wizards or goblins. But it didn't matter as the blood mingled together into a metal-like stench that made him feel woozy.

His stomach wanted to fall in and out of itself at the sight and the smell that permeated the air. He had to resist the urge to close his eyes as the last wizard fell onto the floor like a puppet having been cut off its string. If he closed them, it would be the end of him.

He has seen many murders occur, few that meant anything to him, but they all became a permanent part of his memory he couldn't quite erase. Every time he saw the light leave the eyes of those unfortunate to be at the receiving end of that elder wand, he felt the gaping hole within him grow more and more until it consumed him. Like it had consumed him today.

The Dark Lord whirled to meet Draco's gaze. His flat nostrils flared angrily, hands stained with blood as the hand that held the elder wand shook violently. Violent red eyes glared at Draco, and he had to hold himself together. If Voldemort wanted to read his mind, it would be almost useless. Even the "greatest wizard" known to man has his limits.

"I see your son has learned Occlumency quite well." Voldemort's voice came out in rasped, harsh breaths, addressing Draco's parents who stood beside him. His mother was at his side, trying to shield him from the killing curses that had flown out of the Dark Lord's wand so easily.

With an air of threat around him, he glided towards the family, red eyes searching each Malfoy face. When it at last landed on Draco's face, the Dark Lord's lips curled into an almost menacing smile.

"Lucius, have this mess cleaned up," Voldemort ordered, even as he stared at Draco directly. "I'd like to have a word with your son."

Draco suddenly wished to join the bodies of those littered about the drawing room. He had never been in a room with the Dark Lord alone. Whenever he was addressed, either his parents or aunt were with him or he was accompanied by other Death Eaters. Gooseflesh dotted his skin at the thought of having to go through it alone. He racked his brain for anything that would have caused him the misfortune of having to speak with the Dark Lord without company. He couldn't come up with anything, though it was mostly out of the fear that seemed to rattle him to his very core. Would this be the end of him?

"My lord—" His father seemed to sense Draco's very fear of the thought of death coming so soon, because he risked stepping a toe out of line.

"Don't worry, Lucius. I won't harm the boy." Voldemort said, answering their worst fear. "If he behaves."

Draco swallowed before he felt the Dark Lord's cold hand encase his wrist, dragging him out of the drawing room in a vice-like grip. He didn't dare to look back and beg for his mother's help. Looking weak will only make the circumstance even worst for him.

By the time they were out of the drawing room, the Dark Lord hauled him towards a different room. This was more the receiving room of guests and the like. The place was similar to that of the one they came from, only this one had a little less blood on the floors and dead bodies sprawled about.

His body jolted in the slightest when he heard the double doors close behind him. The Dark Lord released his grip, giving Draco only the slightest bit of relief. He was far from being safe just yet.

Voldemort's dark gaze swept toward Draco, causing an icy shiver to run down his spine.

"I would trust _very few_ with such an important task, Draco," The Dark Lord started almost softly, but it did nothing to ease Draco's tension since the wizard still held the elder wand to him like a second skin. "And since you seem to be the only one in your family capable of anything proper, I need to designate you with this lest you want your family to perish."

Draco's eyes widened into saucers, but he was immediate in his response. "I shall do whatever you wish me to, my lord."

The Dark Lord leaned back in the slightest, assessing Draco coldly. "Perhaps some additional incentive will be of use."

"My lord?" Draco asked deftly, but he could feel the earth consume him.

"I have been told that a certain Greengrass girl has been of interest to you lately." Voldemort started. Draco's body froze despite his need to look unbothered by it. He could remember flashes of dreams he's had of Astoria being under the unmerciful glare of the Dark Lord. His emotions seemed to have showed because he saw the Dark Lord's lip curl wickedly. "I see. Well, she needn't be harmed if you simply do what I wish you to."

If there was anything Draco feared worst than losing his life, it was losing Astoria's. It had been one of his more hidden fears, as far as hidden went when he tried to rid himself of the thought of Astoria during his Occlumency lessons with his aunt. Back then, she had become a barrier to everything that he needed to do to accomplish the Dark Lord's task. He had also feared that if he knew of her, it would be the end of Astoria as he knew it. And now that he did, a part of him almost wanted to fight back. But he was not a fool in the face of adversity.

Even if he did want to fight back, he knew he was not powerful enough. Or at least he thought he wouldn't be. If he could do what the Dark Lord asks, he will leave Astoria untouched. And although Draco couldn't fully trust him not to hurt her, what other choice could he possibly have?

Suddenly, his family was not the only thing he was prepared to lose.

He stiffened his resolved and shifted the look on his face. He didn't want to look too unbothered by it, but he didn't want to look like he was begging to keep Astoria's life. His features shifted into that cold, Malfoy look that beamed with pride of the highest caliber. He didn't do it to make his father proud anymore. He has done one too much of that, and he simply couldn't find the heart to do anything to please him after what he had put their family through.

This time, he would not do it for him. He would do it for _her_.

"I am prepared to be at your bidding, my lord."

* * *

 **Fanfiction Writing Month – August:** 3,092 words  
 **Dragon Breeding Club:** Marcus – Peruvian Vipertooth

 **AN:** Okaaaay, Voldemort. Stay the heckity heck away from Draco! D: Nothing gets past this noseless son of a gun, not even the purest thing left in Draco's life ahhhh. Buuut, I would also like to say my _utmost_ apologies for not having a chapter out in July! Things have been super crazy with job hunting and partly because I just joined like two writing forums which has kept me occupied for some time. My goal is to post at least two or three chapters of this fanfic within the month, so fingers crossed that that happens.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed reading, and don't forget to let me know your thoughts in the reviews!

 _ **EMPG22HoPe**_


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